Eyes Without a Face
by scarlett2112
Summary: A soul mate is not found. A soul mate is recognized.
1. Chapter 1

_December 1860_

 _Christmas is fast approaching, but this year, a sense of unease pervades, detracting from the normally joyous time of year. Everyone's thoughts are on different and more ominous things. I often hear father and others talking about the growing rift between the southern and the northern states. South Carolina seceded just yesterday on December 20th. The thought is unnerving. Now that one state has left the union, there will be more. They will likely fall like dominoes, Virginia most assuredly will be one of them. Knowing father, I'm certain he'll demand that I enlist. Zachary, the good son and our father's pride and joy, just proposed to his sweetheart and is about to start a family._

 _Family is what makes the South, and as father often reminds us, we are not to buck tradition. Of course I will never be the golden boy that marries according to his parents wishes. I'm not afraid of hard work, I have every intention of doing just that but it will be because it's something that I want to do... It won't be for the sole purpose of increasing the family wealth. I can't help but feel there must be more than this._

 _I'm a man and I do like women but the one I'm going to marry one day won't be a "good match" or an old "family friend" or just a healthy female capable of bearing children. I haven't met her yet but she must be out there somewhere. I want to see the world before I settle down here and make my parents proud._

 _But I'm not going to worry about father or family duties or even the impending war right now. What would be the point? Once father makes up his mind, there's no changing it._

 _Today was a good day, I spent most of it in the barn, feeding and brushing the horses. I love living on the plantation, especially the solitude country life brings. As much as I enjoy spending time with Zachary, I need to be by myself sometimes too._

 _Later I had to go to town to pick up some flour for my mother. While in the general store, I ran into Martha Forbes. She's a pretty blonde with eyes as blue as crescent pools. Her beautiful dresses, made of the finest fabrics, accentuate her petite figure and feminine curves. She always smiles when I see her at Sunday services, maybe she would agree to go with me to the church Christmas party? I should have taken the opportunity to ask her but I didn't. I just couldn't get the words out but I can't help but think what it would be like to kiss her...?"_

 _... "I didn't realize how tired I was, falling asleep while still writing in the diary. What I wrote, I still don't want to go this route. I can imagine my parents would be excited should I marry Martha, I've know her since we were children together, but is it all life has to offer?"_

* * *

Stefan treads a fine line through the lake house, it's been years since they came here for the holidays and everything seems new. And smaller. He's not sure if he should be excited or disappointed, if only Damon wouldn't have disappeared after lunch, the two of them could explore around the lake or visit some of the neighbor kids. He wouldn't mind saddling up a couple of the horses to take a look around. Flustered because it's been hours since he's seen his big brother, he starts up the staircase to go to Damon's room.

He gets even more frustrated when he isn't there either. When he backs out of the room, he just happens to notice that the door to the attic is ajar. That's where he must have gone. Slowly and carefully he opens the door. Hoping the stairs don't creak and reveal his presence, he takes off his shoes and starts to tiptoe up the steps. As soon as he reaches the top, he finds Damon lazily spread out on the sofa, his face immersed in a book.

"What are you reading?" he speaks loudly, but Damon doesn't even flinch, nor does he reply for several long minutes. Getting more annoyed which each tick of the clock, Stefan is fisting his hands at his sides by the time his big brother finally responds.

"It's a diary, must be real old. Like Civil War old! I found it in the box over there," he waves his hand pointing to a large wooden box sitting in the corner.

"Who cares? Let's go outside, I want to do some exploring."

"It's riveting. Our ancestor, the guy writing it is named Damon. He mentions his brother Zachary and that's dad's name too. Don't you think that's interesting?"

"No!" he scoffs, crinkling his nose.

"Well I think it is. I'm going to ask dad about it," Damon replies, his voice trailing off as he buries his face in the diary again.

Feeling slighted, Stefan marches over and pulls the book from his hands.

"What the hell, Stefan?"

"I'll give it back if you come outside with me for awhile."

"Fine," Damon mutters in resignation. As soon as he stands up, Stefan hands him back the diary. With the precious book in his hand, he follows Stefan down the staircase, pulling the attic door closed behind him.

* * *

 _Synopsis quote courtesy of Vironika Tugaleva._

 _We hope you will all like this story. I will post the 2nd chapter soon._

 _Thank you all for the incredible support you give to Eva and me. You are all the BEST of the DE fandom._

 _If and when we decide to hang it up, our stories will remain on this site. They were written for Damon and Elena, I just can't imagine them any other way._

 _Thank you so much Eva. She is so much more than 'beta' for me. She is an active co-writer in every story we post._

 _Please leave us a review, let us know your thoughts. Thank you again so much. Have a safe and wonderful day._


	2. Forgotten Memory

_March 4, 1861_

 _Abraham Lincoln was inaugurated as sixteenth President of the United States today. Seven southern states have already seceded but war has yet to be declared. It's coming though, the drums of it are beating steadily. Father is away at the Confederate Convention in Montgomery. He wired home that they have already adopted the "Stars and Bars" as the new nation's flag. I feel torn, I like Mr. Lincoln and what he stands for. I love my country and hate to see it torn apart. But what do I do? Father would surely disown me if I refused the call to duty. Yours truly, Damon J. Salvatore_

 _March 10, 1861_

 _Father is still away, no doubt raising in his fist in support of a new nation, at the convention in Alabama. Zachary and I escorted mother to the church supper today. Mother made her choke cherry cobbler. It's my favorite dessert. When I went up to get second helpings, I stepped beside Martha. Her shiny blonde hair was pulled back and tied. She had a pretty blue checked dress on the sash around her waist made her curves even more prominent. I can't help the way my body reacts when I see her. I sat down at the table with her and her parents, we chatted, I was bored but I tried not to show it. I didn't want to hurt her feelings or upset her parents. Fortunately Zachary came over to tell me that we need to take mother home as she wasn't feeling well._

 _Being the gentleman that I am, I bowed to Martha and then took my leave. I still want more. I want to see the world, experience all it has to offer before I even think about settling down and taking a wife. As pretty as Martha is, I just don't believe that she's the one who is meant for me. Yours truly, Damon J. Salvatore._

* * *

Stefan turns onto the long gravel road. He rolls down his car window to breathe in the fresh country air. He might enjoy it more if he was passing through the area for different reasons. When the familiar log home comes into view, he slows down and turns into the driveway, stopping the car when he finally reaches the house. Sucking in a fortifying breath, Stefan gets out and walks over to the door. He stands there for several moments then pushes the door bell. When no one comes, he presses it repeatedly. His patience is wearing thin. He's certain Damon's at home, probably _doing research_ or whatever he likes to call it.

When he's in the thick of it, he's retreats into his own little world, completely oblivious to everything around him. Stefan will never understand why his brother wastes so much of his time on the old and boring history of the Salvatore family. He almost falls inside when Damon suddenly opens the door without bothering to be even mildly polite.

"What are you doing here, Stef? Did you drive all the way out here to lecture me once again about how I'm wasting my time, indeed my entire life because I'm doing something that you don't approve of? There's nothing frivolous about studying history, brother."

"'Studying history' you call it?" Stefan snorts. "No, Damon. I came to tell you, you should just stop wasting time with this... this nonsense."

"You made your point, brother. Congratulations, thank you for enlightening me about how my life sucks, you can go now. I'll even call dad or your soon to be wife and tell them you're absolutely not to blame for your failure here today. I'll tell them that it's all my fault like everything else always is."

"Can you be serious for once? Look, we, Caroline and I, are having a dinner party for our family and friends, you know before the wedding, I actually came to invite you. We both want you there."

Damon looks at him with interest, "Is this your sly way of setting me up to meet someone? You're also hoping, scheming that it'll work so well that maybe, just maybe, I'll drop everything that I hold dear... Because Stefan, you're not that good of an actor. I'm not buying what you're selling and furthermore I don't believe for a moment that you drove all the way out here just to see little old me."

Stefan's guilty face tells him he's not far from the truth. "Come on, Damon. I'm not here to pressure you, okay? But if you find her..."

"Oh, no. Hold on Stef. You came, you saw me and now you can be on your merry way. You know you'd rather spend the evening without me anyway.

"All right, Damon, have it your way, I'll go. But you can't hide here for the rest of your life."

"I'm not hiding. I just live my life the way I like it," he gives Stefan a roguish grin and practically shoves him outside. "Bye, Stef!"

Stefan has no other choice than get in the car and drive away in defeat.

* * *

Walking over to the window, Damon pulls the curtain back and watches the cloud of dirt that Stefan's car stirs up when he leaves. Shaking his head, he walks over to the bar and pours himself two fingers of bourbon. He takes a swallow, savoring the burn. He walks over to his leather sofa and sits down. He gets comfortable, resting his feet across the end table and then picks up the book again. By now, he knows the diary by heart but he often re-reads parts and passages, fascinated about how often they inexplicably parallel his own life.

His ancestor's story has stayed with him since he first found the diary when he was a young teenager. Whenever he opens it, the fading words written on the worn and tattered pages seem to come to life, It always feels so real.

With time and a lot of research, he was able to find some details about his namesake's death, he died at Gettysburg. He was one of the 7,300 Confederate casualties who died in the ill fated Pickett's charge on July 3, 1863. By sheer luck and thanks to one of his friends, his diary was found and returned to the Salvatore family.

Damon's brother Zachary kept it and later passed it on to his children. It had been lost to history for generations until Damon found it quite by accident but sometimes he wonders if he wasn't fated to find it. He doesn't know how or why but somehow he knows that it was meant to be. Because of his obsession with his great-great- great-great uncle of his, most of his family considers him to be more than a little eccentric. Damon doesn't care, he's happy with his favorite hobby so most of the time, he just ignores them the same way they do him.

Taking one more swallow of his drink, he starts to thumb through the pages. Several of them are dog eared so he can find familiar passages quickly. He's certain there's a parallel here somewhere... ah yes, Damon's brother Zachary's wedding...

 _April 6, 1861_

 _Today is Zachary's wedding to Bonita Fell. I always thought that he was sweet on Honoria but his best friend swooped in and married her when rumor had it that she was with child. They moved away right after the wedding to somewhere in Pennsylvania. Bonita is a very nice girl too, very pretty. Zachary is over the moon for her. I'm supposed to be his best man._

 _Mother and Father are busting their buttons with pride for their golden boy. Mother has brought up Martha repeatedly lately saying that she would make a good wife for me. No matter how hard I try, I can't seem to get through to either of my parents that I want more. I must go, the wedding is about to start._

 _April 6, 1861_

 _Bonita was a vision in white satin and lace. Zachary looked fine in his tuxedo and rose bud boutonniere. They spoke their vows and I handed my brother the ring. It was a pretty gold band that he slid on her finger. Now I have a new sister. I danced the Virginia Reel with Martha and with Bonita. I had a grand time but now I'm tired after such a hectic day._

 _... I fell asleep again, waking up with my head laying on my folded arms. Goodnight diary, Damon J. Salvatore._

* * *

Damon's eyes snap open when he feels someone touching his arm. He relaxes when he sees it's his dad. He'd fallen asleep on the couch with his precious diary spread across his chest.

"Dad, what are you doing here? Is something wrong? Stefan?" he asks, in rapid succession while quickly sitting up.

"Relax, son. Stefan told me that you were rather gruff with him so I thought I'd drive out. Why don't the two of us take a walk?"

Damon sighs and nods his head. He gets up and puts the diary safely in his bookcase then follows his dad outside.

"Come on, Coop," he whistles, smiling when his dog scampers over to him. He ruffles his head a bit then steps in beside the older Salvatore the two of them walking down the well worn trail towards the lake that sits on Damon's property. When they reach the water, they sit down on an old but huge downed tree trunk. Damon leans over to pick up a couple of stones and skips them across the water. Cooper keeps himself busy dipping in and out of the water.

"So the diary, I know that you've read it repeatedly since you found it but can you tell me what it is that so fascinates you, Damon?"

"I don't know what it is dad, there's just something about it. I know this sounds insane but it's like I'm drawn to it, sometimes.. it's like I'm reading my own life, my own thoughts. I carry his name and you carry his brother's name."

"You're so reclusive, Damon. I worry about you."

"I'm fine, dad. I'm happy, isn't that what every parent should want for their child?"

"Of course, I want you to be happy but are you really or are you just saying that to get me off of your back?"

"Dad, come on? I'm fascinated by it, I don't know how else to describe it."

"I love you, Damon. I don't want you to be alone forever."

"I'm not alone, I have you and I know I can be hard on Stefan but he's always belittling me, my choices, my life. It's my life, I don't tell him how to lead his, I expect him to give me the same courtesy and respect my choices."

"Alright, Damon. I have something for you." Zach reaches into his jacket pocket and pulls out a small stack of letters, they look old, very old. Although he has a tentative look on his face, he hands them to his son. "Your Aunt Patti found these in an old chest in her attic. Most of them were written by Damon to his brother but some were written to his parents."

Damon's mouth parts in shock. He can hardly wait to get back to the house to read them. "I don't know what to say. Thank you dad. You don't know how much this means to me."

"I think I do," the older Salvatore says, patting his son's leg. He's not sure if he should be supporting his son's obsession but he also knows that Damon would never forgive him if he didn't give him the letters. "Come now, let's go back, I can see you're practically drooling to get started reading them."

"Dad.. do you want to stay for supper? I could make us something?"

"Not today, Damon. I'll let you study those. But I expect you to be at Stefan's dinner party. You'll like Caroline. She's a good girl and she has enough spunk to keep your brother in line."

"Alright, I'll go."

Overwhelmed, Damon gives his father a hug when they both stand up. He calls for his pet, reeling back when he shakes his wet fur out on his master. Damon rolls his eyes and then walks back with his dad, Cooper trailing behind.

When they reach the cabin, he goes around the outside of the house with him to say goodbye. He doesn't go inside till he sees his dad's car disappear down the long gravel road.

* * *

As soon as he gets back inside, Damon goes into the kitchen to grab a bottle of water after which he returns to the couch. Once he gets comfortable, a pillow behind his head, he kicks off his shoes and spreads out on the couch. He carefully pulls a letter out of the stack. The envelope is yellowed with age, the paper brittle so he's very careful when he unfolds it.

 _December 26, 1862_

 _Dear Zachary, I hope this finds you and Bonita well. I am excited to meet my new nephew, Clarence. I hope he isn't keeping you awake at night._

 _I was injured in the Battle of Fredericksburg. I am convalescing at the home of a young widow, her name is Elena. She's so beautiful, Zachary. I think I'm in love with her already. She has eyes as dark as chestnuts, her hair is long and shimmers in the sunlight. And she is kind. But even more than her physical beauty, she has the soul of an angel. She opened up her home to me, staying awake to tend to my every need while my fever raged. I am alive only because of the tender care she's given me. If she'll have me, I'm going to marry her when the war is over. Her husband was killed at Fort Sumter, she's been widowed for nearly a year and half. I will end it here, I'm very tired, my strength is nowhere near what it should be. Please give my love to our parents and your family._

 _Sincerely, your brother, Damon J. Salvatore._

Damon knows from reading and re-reading the diary that entries were more rare after he joined the Confederate war effort. And it seems after he met Elena. The letter is dated in December of 1862 and the young man died in July of 1863, there really aren't a lot of entries during that time. Perhaps these letters will fill in some of the blanks. Damon does remember reading something about Damon waking up in a field hospital, Elena above him, her distinctive eyes were dominant in his thoughts.

He also added later that he mentioned her in a letter that he wrote to his brother, "This letter," he says aloud, holding the treasure in his hands. Carefully he folds it back up and puts it in the envelope and then he reaches for the diary again.

 _December 17, 1862_

 _On November 14, General Burnside, now in command of the Army of the Potomac, sent a corps to occupy the vicinity of Falmouth near Fredericksburg. The rest of the army soon followed. General Lee reacted by entrenching his army on the heights behind the town. On December 11, Union engineers laid five pontoon bridges across the Rappahannock under fire. On the 12th, the Federal army crossed over, and on December 13, Burnside mounted a series of futile frontal assaults on Prospect Hill and Marye's Heights that resulted in staggering casualties. Meade's division, on the Union left flank, briefly penetrated Jackson's line but was driven back by a counterattack. Union generals C. Feger Jackson and George Bayard, and Confederate generals Thomas R.R. Cobb and Maxey Gregg were killed. On December 15, Burnside called off the offensive and re-crossed the river, ending the campaign._

 _I was shot in the belly, certain that I'd bleed to death but by some miracle, when I opened my eyes, an angel was looking down at me. Hers were endless, it's like I was seeing heaven reflected back at me. Her smile lit up her whole face but it was her eyes that stood out, I was simply mesmerized by them. She dabbed my fevered skin with a wash cloth to cool me off. I don't know if she was real or truly an angel. She stayed with me, holding my hand, even singing to me. She told me her name was Elena._

Tired, Damon closes the diary and lays it on the table beside him. He feels sad that Damon never got a chance to marry this girl or have a family. He died on a bloody battlefield in Pennsylvania. Suddenly feeling incredibly fatigued, he rolls over and closes his eyes, mere moments pass before he drifts off to sleep.

 _Hopefully someday he'll find his own Elena._

* * *

 _Thank you all so much all of you. YOU ARE ALL THE BEST._

 _And Eva, thank you for everything you do for me. Love you._

 _Chapter title: 'Forgotten Memory' by Zakk Wylde._

 _The final chapter of 'Tomorrow' will post later this week. When it's complete, I'm going to post the sequel chapter I wrote for 'Burnt Ice'. DE are competitive pairs figure skaters in that one._

 _I hope you all have a safe and wonderful day and week ahead. Thank you all again. We'll see you next week._


	3. Battle Symphony

_He's choking from the amount of gun powder in the air, the smoke is blinding. His fellow soldiers intermingle with the Union ones and he's not able to recognize them until they're in his face. Screams of pain and the coppery scent of fresh blood are the most profound perceptions he's able to absorb. It comes out of nowhere, a violent jolt followed by an explosion of pain. Fire consumes his body and he's falling. It feels like an eternity before he hits the ground. Through the thick haze of battle, he sees a brief glimpse of the bright blue sky above and the sounds of war all around him. Soon every sense is muffled and then finally dimmed by blessed unconsciousness as it slowly blankets his mind._

 _At first, he can't see anything. Sound slowly begins to penetrate through the deafness that surrounds him. As everything begins to coalesce, the sweetest voice he's ever heard is saying calming words somewhere near him. He feels a soft touch on his face and together with it comes pain, the onrush shakes his body and the voice above him tries to reassure._

 _"Lay down, soldier, you need to rest. Don't move or your wound will open up again. We were only able to stop the bleeding a little while ago..."_

 _The gentle timbre of her voice is lulling him to sleep but he fights it. He doesn't want to slip into the same dark place, the one he's been in since they shot him. He wants to open his eyes and see the face behind the ever present angelic voice. He's wet, bathing in his own sweat or blood and he wants to get up and run from this place but he can do nothing. The last thing he can hear is her voice singing._

 _The next thing he knows is her hand touching him, washing his arms and chest, then holding his hand for a minute._

 _"Welcome back Damon," and he's sure he died and gone to heaven because her voice, her touch, he's certain that she must be an angel. He tries to open his eyes but the blinding light makes him snap them shut again. He can feel her bending closer, wiping his eyelids with a wet cloth._

 _"Be careful, you've been asleep for days."_

 _He slowly tries again and suddenly, he's looking into a pair of the most mesmerizing eyes he's ever seen. His vision is blurry but those deep, chestnut-hued eyes dominate his every sense._

 _"How do you...?" he swallows thickly, his throat is dry and she quickly brings a cup of water to his lips. It's difficult but she manages to get a few sips into his aching body. He's still not able to see her face but the eyes are following his every move and he wishes that he'll never lose the sight of them._

 _"How do you... know my name?" He doesn't know why he's asking this, he wants to know who she is and her name, and most of all he wants to see her face..._

 _The vision starts to fade again and he tries to hold onto it but it slips away anyway. The last thing he can hear is... "Elena, my name is Elena."_

* * *

Damon wakes up with a start, his breathing uneven, his heart pounding as he tries to grasp onto reality. It's still dark, but the sky starts to grow pale. It's not for the first time that he dreamt of his ancestor's life but it's the first time _she_ was there.

 _Elena..._

She's the one, the other Damon's lost love that he mentioned a few times but she was clearly on the forefront of his thoughts. Must be the letters his father brought that conjured this rather vivid dream. Still stunned by the vivacity of it, he sits up and wipes the sweat off of his brow.

He recalls the scene he just saw and feels disappointed..., he didn't get to see her face. How could he? There never was a picture of her, nor a description anywhere in the diary. Still, it's mildly unnerving that he experienced the intensity, his great-great-great-great uncle's feelings and emotions waking up to his one true love, no matter how short their romance was.

He can't help but wonder, if they ever got to say 'I love you'? Were they ever able to consume their love in the act? Did they plan to wed and could they have made love before he marched into that Pennsylvania town where his life would end? Did _she_ live through the war crying for Damon or was she able to move on? Did she marry or have children? Or did she die just like her Damon did falling into oblivion without leaving her own imprint on history?

Damon lays back down when an unfathomable feeling of sadness overwhelms his senses, it's so intense that he can almost feel the stab to his heart as he mourns a lost life and a love that wasn't meant to be.

* * *

The party's progressing nicely, Damon feels good about Stefan's upcoming wedding, he's glad that his little brother gets to live the life he chose to, the way it's supposed to be. Because contrary to Stefan's belief he's not completely cynical nor is he trying to run away from living his own life. He's just looking for something, someone really that would give his existence meaning. Like his ancestor before him, he's certain there's more out there, he just has to find it.

Sighing he walks over to the punch bowl. After thanking the woman who hands him a glass, he walks over to an empty table. He takes a sip, his eyes fall on his future sister in law. Caroline is exactly as his dad described her. Damon thinks she will certainly keep his little brother on his toes, he chuckles at this thought.

"What's so funny?" his future sister in law sits next to him.

Damon gives her a smug smile. "I was just thinking my brother will never get bored with you. You won't let him."

Caroline's beaming: "You think so?"

"But," Damon continues, pausing to take a sip of his drink. "Don't even think of trying the same on me. I fight back."

Caroline's not exactly sure what to make of him, so she grins and asks him to dance. Damon's not opposed to sharing one with her. He swallows what's left in his glass and then stands up and offers his hand. Soon they're circling the room. He quickly realizes his mistake when they meet Stefan dancing with an unknown girl in the middle of the dance floor.

"Swap?" Stefan winks at Caroline and Damon wants to strangle him. However rather than make a scene, he smiles sweetly and turns his attention to the girl. "I'm Damon. The much more handsome better brother."

The girl giggles and she's actually quite sweet. "Amber. I'm Caroline's cousin."

They dance for several dances then they friendly part ways. Damon won't play this game, he's made that perfectly clear to his brother on many occasions. He's no monk of course, but he won't let anyone pressure him into the love, marriage and baby carriage game.

 _I_ _s it bad he wants more? To see what life has to offer?_ He pauses at the thought, once again he feels a kinship with his ancestor.

"I hope that Stefan's slight of hand hasn't ruined your mood?" Zachary, known by most of his friends and family as Zach, appears, dropping into the chair next to him.

"Nope, dad," Damon gives him a genuine smile.

"Stefan might be a bit unhappy with me but what else is new? Sure Amber seems like a nice girl but that's not how it works. Maybe I'll find her out there somewhere, maybe I won't but the decision will be mine, not Stefan's, not yours, not mom's."

"Sometimes I can't help but wonder what or who you're waiting for? I know love can't be forced but I still worry about you. Marrying your mother is the best thing I've ever done. And I'll tell you a little secret. I was never keen about jumping into marriage myself but then I met her."

They both follow her with their eyes as she makes her way through the crowd. Everyone knows how much Zach and Jenna Salvatore love each other. His mother beams when she happens to notice her husband and son. She turns away when one of the other guests attracts her attention. Damon feels blessed having them for his parents.

"I know dad, I just haven't found her yet... I'm waiting for my own _Elena_..."

"Who?" Zach doesn't follow.

Damon sighs, because he knows he will have to explain now. "The woman our ancestor, great, great... great whatever Uncle Damon was in love with. She's mentioned in the diary and in the letters you brought me too. Thank you again by the way, they're a treasure for my research."

Zach smiles and pats his shoulder. "I'm glad. You need to tell me all about them. It's been a while and I'm absolutely sure that you've found some new and intriguing details about _our_ history. What about next Sunday? Mom will surely make something good for supper if you come?"

Damon picks up at the hope in his father's voice, he wouldn't say no. "We both know she makes something good all the time. Of course I'll come."

* * *

 _"Elenaaa!" He can feel her moving under him, her tiny fists clutching the blanket that covers them lightly, the sheen of sweat between them keeping their bodies together even tighter than gravity. She lets out a sob and raises her head to plant an open mouthed kiss on his shoulder, grazing it with her teeth._

 _He slides his hand under her backside and helps her move against him. When her body jerks and starts to shake violently, he keeps her as close as possible and as expected she pulls him over the edge along with her._ _She's magnificent, his Elena. He was willing to wait till the war is over but she was alright with these stolen moments, always worried they could just die and never taste each other._

 _"All we have is today, Damon, I know that it can end at any moment and I'd rather not live forever with regret that we wasted these moments."_

 _When they're lying on the sheets, their bodies and souls completely bare to each other, he draws circles on her perfect skin, his fingers unconsciously turning towards her erect nipples. Or he runs them over her belly and lower still... Elena holds her breath all the way down. He watches her shining eyes, they're always so expressive, and finally asks what's been on his mind since the moment he met her._

 _"Did you love him?"_

 _She recognizes the question for what it is, and her face turns more serious. "I don't know, Damon... I was 18 when our parents decided we'd be good together. We grew up in the same town, knew each other our whole lives. It was just... the next logical step in our lives. Everyone was getting married. He was good to me but did I ever feel anything comparable to this?"_

 _She gestures between them. "I don't think so. I didn't even know anything like this existed."_

 _Her eyes are glistening with emotions so powerful that he feels it too. It's surreal and concrete at the same time. He pulls her head against his uninjured shoulder, his only desire is to take all her worries away. Burrowing in against him, she whispers into his skin, "I don't even recall his face anymore, all I can see is you."_

* * *

Something wet is touching his face and he chokes at the feel of a slippery tongue running over it. "What the hell!?" he yelps, his eyes snapping open.

"Morning!" Stefan's grinning from the chair beside his bed, his feet resting on the mattress.

"Stef!" he groans. "Seriously you must have a death wish?" Shaking his head, he shifts, turning to face his brother. "What are you doing here _again_ and what on earth made you believe that letting Coop in here to slather my face was a good idea?"

"Well, he was laying outside your door looking lonely. What would you have me do?"

Damon simply rolls his eyes. "You didn't answer my question. Why are you here?"

"I didn't know that you made plans with the folks. I stopped by the house on my way to work yesterday, mom clued me in. When all was said and done, she wrangled a promise out of me that I'd both check on you and remind you that you promised you'd be at Sunday's supper," he watches him closely. When Damon doesn't respond, lazily scratching Cooper's neck, eyes closed again, he whips the sheet off the bed.

"Hey!" Damon snaps, "Give me a break. It's early yet. I was up almost all night doing research for my article. It's for next month but I need to get it turned in by the end of the next week."

"Ah ha," Stefan looks at him rather skeptically. "If it was an article," he mutters under his breath

Damon opens one eye to look at him. "I'm not going to waste my time trying to convince you that I actually work for a living. Buy the mag, see for yourself."

"Come on, Damon. I know you too well, you were knee deep in ' _your research'_ yet again."

Damon shakes his head then reaches over to the opposite bedside stand to pick up his copy of "America's Civil War" magazine. He thumbs through the pages and then flashes his picture in front of Stefan and reads aloud.

"Thomas Ward Custer was a United States Army officer and two-time recipient of the Medal of Honor for bravery during the American Civil War. He was a younger brother of George Armstrong Custer, and perished with him and their younger brother, Boston Custer, at the Battle of the Little Bighorn in Montana Territory in June of 1876."

Stefan sighs but is already backing off. "Alright brother. Listen, mom insisted that I bring you some groceries. She thinks you're starving or something. I'll leave them inside the front porch. You can put them away."

Damon stretches out his hand to give Stefan a high five, his little brother's annoying but he loves him anyway... well most of the time that is.

* * *

Once the bedroom door snaps shut, Damon's thoughts turn to the vivid dream he had. The only explanation he has is that his mind is playing tricks, showing him parts of his ancestor's life that are missing from both his diary and his letters. He remembers asking himself the other day if Elena became past Damon's lover and strangely enough now he's been able to _watch_ the answer to his question?

 _How strange..._ Maybe Stefan's right, maybe he is losing his grip on reality. He's warned him repeatedly that the diary is a dangerous obsession but somehow Damon doesn't think his dreams are simple fantasies, there's more to them, there has to be. Despite how impossible it seems, he can't help but feel there must be at least just a little bit of truth in them.

Lastly, he tries to recall everything about Elena. He can see her burnished brown eyes every time he closes his, it's like they've been imprinted in his mind. He can almost feel her gentle touch or how the tips of her hair tickle his shoulders when she moving above him. He can imagine her voice even though it's just an echo of the conversation he witnessed. But every time he tries to remember the color of her hair, her facial features, the tone of her skin, his mind goes blank.

He writes and does research for a living. If he was able to find out so much about his great-great-great-great uncle, surely he could find out something about this woman he loved, _his_ Elena. He needs to go through the diary and letters again and again until he's sure he's found everything there is to know about her. The task is daunting, he doesn't even know her last name.

He gets up with a renewed resolve. _Who are you Elena?_

* * *

 _I apologize for the late update. Thanksgiving was my holiday to work followed by the work weekend._

 _Huge thanks to all of your for the reviews, follows and favorites. Eva and I are so very grateful. You're all the best._

 _Thank you Eva for all that you do to help make our stories interesting and fun to read._

 _Chapter title: 'Battle Symphony' by Linkin Park._

 _I did post the final chapter of "Tomorrow" the other day. I already miss that DE._

 _I hope to post the first chapter of our annual DE Christmas story "I'll Be Seeing You" by the end of the week. I did post a synopsis of it on my scarlett2112 fb page. It's set in WW2 but it takes place stateside. In 2014 it was "My Favorite Wife", 2015 was "It Came Upon a Midnight Clear", last year we did both "Run for the Roses" and "Same Old Lang Syne"._

 _I'll shut up now, have a safe and wonderful day. Thanks again and we'll see you next time._


	4. When You Close Your Eyes

_May 27, 1863_

 _Dear Zachary,_

 _I hope this correspondence finds you well. It's dusk, the western sky is a mix of yellows, oranges and pinks. It's quite beautiful really, a stark contrast to the bloodshed and suffering that I've seen too much of._

 _We've set up camp for the night so I took my leave to have a few moments to myself. I'm perched under a big leafy Oak tree. There's a light breeze tonight which is a welcome relief from the already sweltering heat. Tomorrow we'll resume our march to Virginia, a place called Cold Harbor. I don't remember Father ever mentioning it?_

 _My shoulder still troubles me but it's better. I know I would have perished without her, my Elena. It hurt to have to say goodbye to her..._

 _I'm sorry, Zachary, I have to close this, General Pickett is calling for us to assemble, he must have something to say to us._

 _Sincerely your brother, Damon J. Salvatore._

Damon stares at the parchment in his hands. He runs his fingers over the now fading ink. He's grateful that most of the letters are still legible despite their age. He feels a chill every time he opens one, it's almost like he hit the jackpot at a Vegas casino or something. When he feels Cooper stirring next to him, he glances up at the clock. His eyes nearly pop out of his head cause his mom will have his ass if he's late for supper. Very carefully, he folds the letter up, places it back in its envelope then gets up to put it away. They're all safely stowed away in a safe and he's also very aware of the fact that his erudite brother thinks he's certifiable for purchasing one. Even though Stefan uses every opportunity to take a swipe at his research, he trusts him not to take his valuables, but he does want them protected in case of a fire or any number of other natural catastrophes.

Once it's safely inside, he closes it and spins the combination lock. He takes a moment to stretch his limbs and then takes Cooper outside to do his business. He'd much rather stay home but his mama is one persistent lady, tough too. Damon chuckles at the thought then grabs his keys and disappears out of his front door.

* * *

Busy in the kitchen, Jenna Salvatore peeks out through the window to see if she sees her son's car. She squeezes her vegetable peeler tighter when he isn't there yet. Shaking her head, she goes back to what she's doing, chopping vegetables for her husband's shish kabobs. When she hears a creaking sound, she turns around and raises an eyebrow at Damon. "You're cutting it pretty close there, young man."

"I'm sorry mom, I lost track of time. I was reading the letters and then I had to take Cooper out before I left... I'm here now so.. how can I help?"

"Your dad already marinated the steak that's in the refrigerator. You can cut it up and help me skewer the kabobs."

"Sure thing." He kisses her cheek then grabs the meat out of the fridge. Between the two of them, they finish in short order. Damon puts them on a platter and goes in search of his dad who's outside standing in front of the grill, talking to someone on his cellphone. Having heard the sliding glass door opening, Zach turns around, smiling when their eyes meet. He quickly finishes his call and then takes the platter from Damon. He quickly puts the kabobs on the grill and after pulling a couple of beers out of the refrigerator, the two men sit down to chat.

Zach takes a long swallow, savoring the icy cold drink. "I haven't gotten this month's magazine yet. It's usually here by now."

"I don't know dad. My article was about Thomas Ward Custer. General Custer's brother. Not many people are aware of him, he's been pretty much overshadowed by his brother and Custer's Last Stand. He died there too along with George and another brother Boston. Tom was actually the first man to be awarded with two Medals of Honor, he's one of only nineteen two time winners in U.S. history. It's pretty amazing that no one knows who he is."

"I didn't know that myself. That's incredible."

'It is. Even General Custer himself often said that it was Tom who should have been the general, not himself," Damon adds, taking a deep pull from his own bottle.

"I can't wait to get my issue. Do you have any ideas for next months issue?"

"I haven't decided for sure but I think I'm going to write about General MacArthur and his father. Arthur MacArthur Jr. won the Congressional Medal of Honor for his leadership at Missionary Ridge during the Battle of Chattanooga, Tennessee. When his regiment's color bearer fell, MacArthur picked up the regimental flag and charged ahead with it in front of his men. They rallied behind him, stormed the seemingly impregnable entrenchments, and seized the strategic ridge for the Union."

"You're almost a walking encyclopedia, Damon."

"It is my job, dad... and in conclusion, General Douglas MacArthur received the Medal of Honor in the Philippines Campaign, which made him and his dad the first father and son to be awarded the medal."

Zach nods then gets up to check on the meat. He turns the kabobs and then sits back down to take another drink of his beer. Before he starts to speak, Jenna appears with plates. Damon jumps up to help her set the picnic table. He looks at her when he only sees three plates.

"What about Stefan and Caroline?"

"They're coming for dessert, they had plans already. What do you think of her?"

"I think that Stefan has met his match, quite honestly," Damon laughs, sticking a piece of steak in his mouth.

"You're right on the money there."

"You are, she keeps him on his toes," Zach adds, winking at his wife. When they finish eating, Damon helps his mom clean off the table. While they're doing the dishes, she pauses to look at him.

"At the party, I saw you dancing with Amber, several dances as a matter of fact. Do you like her?"

"Mom, not you too. Isn't it enough that Stefan is always riding my ass about settling down? She was a nice girl but she's not the one for me."

"She could be?"

"Mom, please. There has to be something more. I want what you and dad have. He told me that it felt like his heart stopped when he saw you for the first time. That's what I want, a love that consumes me, passion, adventure, I want it all."

"I understand, Damon. I was your age once too. But adventure isn't everything and life is fleeting. You shouldn't just write off something before it even has a chance to grow and develop."

"Don't do this mom."

"Alright, if you're sure. But if you really believe she's out there somewhere, it's up to you to find her."

"I hope I do." After that they finish the dishes in silence. He gives her a kiss on the cheek and then goes back outside to talk to his dad.

"Where's mom?"

"She's still in the house. Why is it that you're all trying to set me up with someone? I'm not that old that everyone needs to be in a rush to marry me off."

"You know your mom, the eternal matchmaker," Zach laughs, handing Damon another beer. He has a swallow and then turns to his son, "So why don't you tell me a little more about this Elena you mentioned?"

"Our ancestor, Damon, he was in love with her, with Elena. Seems his parents were keen on setting him up too," Damon adds, raising an eyebrow at his dad. "There was a girl named Martha Forbes and he liked her but she didn't set his blood on fire, you know the way it is with you and mom. I've told you before that he was a soldier and we know that he died at Gettysburg. I found out that he was injured at the Battle of Fredericksburg. It's only afterwards that Elena is mentioned. She was a widow, her husband died at Fort Sumter, the first battle of the war. She nursed him back to some modicum of health and in doing so, he fell in love with her. I think it was mutual, I mean, he never comes out and says it but it's a gut feeling I have."

He doesn't reveal the dream, for fear his dad will think he's insane if he tells him about it.

"I've never heard the name Elena before. I can ask your aunt if there's anymore things amongst the family antiques but I'm certain she would've given it to me if she found more letters. You know how fond she is of you."

"That would be great dad," he starts to say, stopping when suddenly Stefan's voice rings out. He has a beer in his hand and he takes a seat beside their dad.

"Seriously Damon, you're talking about that again. Face it, brother, you're obsessed." He shakes his head at Damon while twisting off the top of his bottle.

"Stefan?"

"It's not normal dad," Stefan protests, eyeing Damon suspiciously.

Zach brushes off Stefan and turns to Damon. "You said that she helped him after the Battle of Fredericksburg? Do you know anything else about her, a last name, anything?"

Ignoring his brother, Damon finishes off his drink. "No, I only know her name is Elena. He never mentioned her last name or anything else."

"Have you read all of the letters yet?"

"Yes. But since my obsession is a source of annoyance for your other son, I'm going to go home now and go trough them again in case there's something I missed. I'll say goodbye to mom on the way out. Bye dad." Damon doesn't bother saying anything to Stefan, he disappears through the patio doors.

"Why must you provoke him Stefan?"

"Dad, don't you think it's weird? This obsession of his borders on insanity."

"Don't you think you're being a little melodramatic? And what do you suppose the world thought of Galileo and Einstein? Cut him some slack before you cause a rift that's not so easily healed." Zach finishes his beer and then gets up and goes inside too leaving Stefan to contemplate his dad's advice.

* * *

As soon as he gets home, Damon pours himself a good stiff glass of bourbon. He unlocks his safe and pulls out the diary and a stack of letters after which he settles down on the couch with his dog laying by his feet. He sits up to pet him for a minute then lays back down and starts to read. He reads passages in the diary but his eyes soon grow heavy.

 _She wraps her arm around his waist and helps him to walk into the kitchen. Once Damon is sitting down, she goes over to the stove to stir the cast iron pot. The room is filled with the delicious aroma of chicken and potatoes. His mouth is watering at the thought. He watches her carefully, following her every move when she sets the spoon aside and then picks up a bowl of supplies. Damon jerks slightly when she pulls his shirt down to reveal his dressings._

 _Damon's skin erupts with goosebumps everywhere she touches him and after she removes the old, bloodied dressing, she puts a fresh one on and then covers his shoulder again. She goes to stand up but Damon grabs her arm. With their eyes joined, he brings her hand to his mouth, kissing the pad of each finger. It's such a simple gesture but erotic nonetheless. With his good arm, he pulls her onto his lap, fists his hand in her hair and brings her mouth to his. They kiss, it's smoldering and fierce._

 _When he releases her, she gets up to stir the pot again. When they hear a crack of thunder, she looks out of the window and then turns to face him.._

His eyes snap open at the intensity of it. His heart is slamming against his ribs so hard that he has to struggle to take a breath. His chest is heaving so painfully that he needs to sit up. Once he swallows a breath of air, he wipes the sweat from his brow and throws back the rest of his bourbon that was still sitting on the end table. It was so real, when she turned to look at him, her face was a blur except for her eyes, endless dark pools of molten chocolate. Now wide awake, he turns on the light and takes the string off the package of letters. While thumbing through them, his eyes light up when he sees that two are stuck together.

As carefully as he can he manages to pry them apart without tearing anything. He pulls one out and starts to read Damon's letter.

 _June 30, 1863_

 _Dear Zachary,_

 _I don't know where to start, brother. I am in Gettysburg, Pennsylvania. A battle is brewing, General Lee says it's pivotal and that the South must prevail. It matters little to me though for my beloved Elena passed from this world into the next just three weeks ago. I was at Cold Harbor when I heard talk of a Typhus outbreak near Fredericksburg. I was overcome with an alarming need to get to my love. I deserted, it was like some force was dragging me to her._

 _By the time I arrived, she was near death. But by the grace of the good Lord, I was able to hold her in my arms when she took her last breath. With her, she took my heart. After laying her to rest in a small cemetery, I chose to rejoin my unit. Because they need men, good men to fight, they punished me severely but stopped short of a court martial._

 _My biggest regret is that I didn't get to give her my name so instead of her marker saying Elena Salvatore, she will hold his name through eternity, Elena Wattles. I want to be with her brother and although I will do nothing to cause my death, she wouldn't approve of that, I will welcome it when it comes._

 _Sincerely, Damon J. Salvatore._

Damon's mouth is hanging open by the time he finishes the letter. She died first.

* * *

 _'A journey of a thousand miles begins with a single step" Lao Tzu. Damon is on a journey..._

 _Thank you all for everything. You all mean the world to Eva and me. You are the best of the DE fandom._

 _Thank you too, Eva. Since an ocean separates us, she often stays up till the wee hours of the morning helping me with our stories._

 _Chapter title: 'When You Close Your Eyes' by Night Ranger._

 _I did post "We Are Santa's Elves" Wednesday and updated "I'll Be Seeing You" yesterday. I hope you'll give it a read. Watch for 'Friends and Lovers', ICEM: Joy to the World, TGH to post in the coming weeks. I'm working on one holiday o/s._


	5. Spell I'm Under

For some reason Damon can't sleep. He tosses and turns, even takes a couple of Tylenol but still it proves elusive. No matter how hard he tries to block the images, he can't seem to clear his mind of the pictures that keep forming in his mind. Visions of war and pandemonium, brother killing brother, Elena's striking eyes burning holes in his soul every time his fall closed. They all coalesce in his head, the result, a chaotic vortex of uncertainty. He doesn't know what's real and what's not or if his over active imagination is conjuring up images that he wants to see. When he finally starts to yawn, he fights it, dreading what else might be dredged up for him to view.

When the first glimpse of morning light filters in through the blinds, he gets up and throws on a pair of gym pants, a tee and a hoodie and after leashing Cooper, they depart the house to take a run around the lake. Cooper stays on his heals, happy to be outside with his human. Damon has to smile seeing his dog's enthusiasm. _At least someone takes advantage of his nightmarish last several hours._

In the fresh morning air he's able to let go of his anxiety and look at the new information more rationally. Honestly, his overreaction was a bit unnerving, maybe Stefan is just a little bit right that he's immersed in their ancestor's history too deep, bordering on obsession? _Nope._

The letters have been such a gift! He's learned more about _Damon's_ history through these letters than he has in the past ten years. It's enlightening really. Without realizing it, he ends up at the home of his childhood friend Niklaus Mikaelson, Cooper's already barking at the yard and loudly greeting Niklaus' dog, Bear, who happens to be his brother. Damon bursts out laughing at the dogs' stormy welcome.

"Hey!" Nik comes out of the house, a wide smile on his face. "How are _you_ up this early? Unless of course you haven't been to bed yet?"

"I don't wanna know how must I look like," Damon utters and joins him on the porch. Nik's girlfriend Jules glances out of the window to say 'hi' and offers to make some breakfast for all of them. A few minutes later she joins them and they enjoy the morning coffee, chatting and watching the dogs playing.

"I really enjoyed the article on Thomas Custer. It was quite informative."

"Thanks Nik, I enjoyed writing it. His brother's notoriety overshadowed Thomas and the hero that he was." Damon glances at the dogs when he hears them growling, probably at a rabbit or something.

"How's your research coming along?" Niklaus prompts him to elaborate. "Am I right in surmising that your walking dead like appearance has something to do with it?" His best buddy has always been his most ardent listener and supporter when it came to his... obsession with his families history.

"Don't be a tease!" Jules shakes her head. "And don't listen to him Damon, he's in a horrible mood this morning."

Damon's more than okay to confide in Nik though, he knows he'd never belittle whatever theory Damon would come with, although he's not exactly sure he has one. When Jules takes the plates and mugs inside and prepares to go to work, Damon finds himself telling Nik about the letters, Elena and even hints on his recent dreams without voicing any verdict.

"You mean you dreamt the parts that weren't either in the journal or in the letters? Weird. But not impossible. It seems to me that your mind is trying to fill in the gaps. I would never underestimate your fantasies, mate."

Damon chuckles but there are still doubts about this in his mind. _He felt like he was under a spell..._

"Hey! I know exactly what will cheer you up!" he gets up and disappears in the house. In a few minutes he comes back, bringing with him a few very old looking photographs. "Have you ever seen these? Dad found them when going through archives and brought them to me as he knows we keep in touch. You know, he's so proud of you, writing about glorious old times of Mystic Falls in a respectable magazine," he grins.

Damon gingerly takes the photographs and carefully studies them. "Is it...?"

"Yep, I think it's Zachary Salvatore's wedding. Based on our previous conversations, that's what I believe this of the others are departing recruits and the last one is some church event, it's not that interesting. But have you ever seen Damon Salvatore's picture?"

Damon's stunned to silence, as he's looking at his ancestor in the picture. They have a few of Zachary's and his family and one where he's next to his brother leaning over him but he never saw his face before.

"The similarity is striking, uncanny really," Nik's smug grin once again making its familiar appearance.

 _It's like looking in a fucking mirror..._

* * *

 _"Damon..." her voice is weak and still he can hear the relief when she finds herself in his protective embrace._

 _"Shhshh, my love, don't speak, it will tire you out. I'm here..."_

 _"What... what are you doing here? You can't be..."_

 _"I am. And won't leave you until you're better."_

 _Elena doesn't say any more, she just snuggles in closer to him, too far gone to think about his safety just happy to have him by her side. He knows it's a matter of hours before her depleted body takes the last one of her breaths and her free spirit will escape this misery, leaving him alone and broken behind. But he won't make it harder for her. He will smile and hold her, caress her feverish skin and tell her how much he loves her._

 _"Elena? Can you hear me? I promise. I promise we'll be together. I'll find a way. You will get better and I'm going to marry you one day."_

 _They're all lies but he needs to get it out. He loves her so much and he needs her to believe him even for a second that everything's going to be alright. She's not strong enough to respond but somehow he knows she can hear him from the dark place she's in. She won't speak again and he kisses her forehead when she stops breathing. Only then he lets the tears fall freely._

 _There will never be another. It's another solemn vow, one he knows he will carry out._

* * *

This time, he wakes up slowly. He's shaken, but his earlier panic doesn't arise.

After getting back home from Nik's place and studying the photographs and letters for hours on end, he fell asleep, fatigue finally pulling him under. He fell through time right into the fateful day in June of 1863. He saw it all, every heart wrenching moment. Damon cradling Elena's weary head and mourning all that was supposed to come. _It felt so real,_ the echoes of Damon's pain, the world falling apart right in front of his eyes...

He takes a few shuddering breaths and gets up to have a glass of water, not even thinking about anything stronger. _Damon_ didn't have that comfort either. Cooper, hoping he might get another walk, gets in his way.

"Not now Coop," Damon pats the dog and opens the front door to let him out. He's not able to analyze his dreamy experience right now, he should probably get some work done, that's after all what pays his bills.

He should also thank Nik's father, the Mayor for sending him the photographs. Perhaps it wouldn't hurt if he volunteered to go through the archives with him? The mere thought of the treasures that they may find excites him.

 _Back to work Damon, he needs a distraction._

He writes all day on his MacArthur article and by the time dinner rolls around, he's just putting the finishing touches on it. Needing a breather, he pours himself a glass of ice tea and then steps on the porch to whistle at the dog to come home. _The damn animal just took off for several hours._ He hears him bark and soon he can see him attacking the well known form of his little brother.

"Not now, Stef!" he groans out loudly.

Once Stefan closes the car door, he raises his hands in surrender. "I'm not here to preach, brother."

Damon eyes him suspiciously as he comes closer.

"Really Damon, I had a talk with dad. Well, he talked I listened."

Damon grins because they all know how these conversations go, he's been on the receiving end of their father's speeches too.

"I... I'm here to tell you that I'll try to cut you some slack. I know I can be...a pain in the ass sometimes but I'm just worried about you. I hope you can understand that?" he adds sincerely hoping Damon will accept his peace offering. He offers his hand.

"Of course you moron," Damon pulls him in a hug. He doesn't do it often, but right now his earthbound little brother is exactly what he needs. "Lock the car we're going to the bar. We both could use a beer."

* * *

When they later stumble over the threshold, they couldn't feel better about each other as brothers. Damon still thinks Stefan's an ass and Stefan still thinks Damon could use a therapy, but after all is said and done, they wouldn't have it any other way. Cooper greets them with a loud howl, not knowing what to make of those two wasted humans.

The brothers part ways in the hallway, Stefan wisely choosing the closest room with a bathroom attached, Damon crawls upstairs and into his own bed, only after stumbling a few times. He even manages to relieve his bladder and splash his face before burying himself in sheets and closing his tired eyes.

This time is different. He doesn't fight the fall through time and space and he experiences a strange sensation of switchback. It's miraculous that his stomach doesn't send him flying to the bathroom after everything he and Stefan drank.

Then he's lying on the ground, a choke provoking smell and ash and fire pushing him down. He has trouble breathing and before he knows it his body starts to shake and toss and turn, while his hands are tearing at his chest. He's about to lose consciousness but he's fighting it, aware he can't hold on for too much longer. _Can one pass out while sleeping?_ He's about to find out because the darkness is already claiming his mind.

"Lay down, soldier, you need to rest. Don't move or your wound will open up again. We were only able to stop the bleeding a little while ago..."

He's already had this dream. But the voice sounds much clearer, the touches he can feel are too real. And then the pain is coming. Paralyzing and unceasing. His shoulder is on fire.

 _It can't be..._

He opens his eyes and finds himself staring into a pair of angelic brown eyes, the very same ones he's seen before but _only_ in his dreams.

* * *

 _I know it's short after such a long wait but I promise more will be coming soon. I am also going to post the first chapter of November Rain so you have a double update day._

 _Thank you all again. Eva and I are so grateful to all of you. I never was interested in writing, I never had a diary or a journal or wrote anything. I only dipped my toe in after reading DE stories for some time. I cannot grasp the right words to tell you all how thankful both Eva and I are for all of you. Thank you too, Eva. Love you dearly._

 _Chapter title: 'Spell I'm Under' by Winger._

 _My very dear friend Short on words just updated 'A Wonderful Lie'._ _Mariah April May has two fabulous stories in progress 'The Devil's Obsession' and 'Marry Me Instead'. Florencia7 posted a Christmas one-shot, JustiniaKorax just started a new story, Salvatoreboys4ever also wrote a darling Christmas short story and her thriller 'Captive of Her Beauty' is still in progress. TheLittle MissVixen, StarlightSo, Amazing Aisha, and VitsAsh are among so many others who are keeping Damon and Elena alive through their stories._

 _I hope you all have a fantastic day and thank you all again. We'll see you with more soon._


	6. Behind The Wall of Sleep

"Open your eyes, Damon..."

He contemplates the request for a few minutes while trying to absorb all the new perceptions and feelings that are foreign to him. His mind can't seem to push the pieces into place and yet it's all vaguely familiar. He's dreamt this dream before, many times actually but this time, it _isn't_ quite right. There are subtle changes, he can smell bread baking and fresh air void of acrid smoke and gun powder is blowing through in the open window, the light breeze brushing across his skin making the sweaty hairs on his arms prickle slightly. While his head is trying to adapt and find some semblance of comprehension, he feels it, a soft hand touching his wrist.

"Don't move, I'll be right back." Before her words can sink through the fog inside of his mind, she's already gone. He tries not to panic but it's almost impossible when he's not sure how the hell he landed in this place. He must be dreaming, he has to be, for it to be anything else is simply impossible. He and Stefan overindulged in Tequila last night, that has to be it.

He's probably lying somewhere in his room, the bed or more likely the floor given this incredibly vivid yet somehow horrifying dream. His hand unconsciously scrambles around to find something familiar but the only thing he finds is a sturdy bed post and the smell of sun dried cotton sheets. He can't remember the last time he breathed in that scent, it's been such a long time since he.. since ... _What? Was he about to say since he went to war'?_ His eyes fly open but he closes them again quickly as the blinding daylight burns his senses.

Then he feels it again, her touch, her Jasmine scent and hears her lyrical voice. He feels her arm stretch under his neck and with it, she raises his head and places a cup against his lips. It's only cold water. He can't remember ever tasting anything as good as it in his entire life.

"That's right," he can hear her. "Your mouth and throat must be parched."

His neck snaps towards the sound, a loud groan escaping at the same time. She then pulls her arm out and replaces it with a pillow so he can lean back against the headboard. His left arm is in a sling. Gingerly she places a pillow under it for support. _It fucking hurts, how is this even possible?_

"You must be careful," the voice full of concern cautions him.

"Where...?" he tries. "Who...?"

"I'm Elena...You're in my home.. I've been helping out at the hospital, it's getting so overcrowded. Your friends and fellow soldiers helped me to move you here. You'll be alright soon, I promise..."

Her voice is receding and he feels a cryptic sensation. Fear. Anxiety. The unknown. It can't be real. He can't explain why he's feeling this way but he doesn't like it that she has disappeared again. He tries to open his eyes, slowly. The light from the window isn't as blinding which helps, she must have pulled the curtain closed.

"That's right," he can hear the smile in her calming voice. His heart starts to slow down at the melodious sound of it.

He looks at her for the first time, her eyes burning holes, imprinting their image onto his soul. They outshine anything and everything in the room and just like before he can't perceive anything else. Liquid chocolate pools. He's looking at her for the first time.

"Elena..."

* * *

Every time Damon closes his eyes and goes to sleep, he expects to wake up in his own bed, in his own era. And every time he opens them, he has to find some way to get over the shock that the impossible has happened. He's at a loss to understand the phenomena but somehow, he has cryptically slipped into his ancestor's body, his life and into 1862. Everyday he checks to see if he has his own unblemished skin back or if he's still in _his_ , the one with the bullet wound to his shoulder.

He pinches himself repeatedly, still disbelieving this new confusing reality. Damon spends hours and hours looking around the room to see if he can find something that doesn't belong here. Something from the future that wouldn't belong in this world, something that would prove to him that his mind crated this alternative universe. Every day his search proves to be futile, he finds nothing. Not. One. Single. Thing.

Maybe it's because he's a historian that he knows what does and doesn't belong in this era. A jovial thought echoes in his mind. How much would any of his colleagues give for this opportunity? Even though he smiles for a few seconds, fear soon replaces it.

Days pass - still he can't grasp the concept that he's actually _spending days in 1862_ \- he feels better. Elena comes and goes, she works at the hospital and when she comes home she takes care of him. Damon's grateful, but he's also very much aware of the tension and electricity between them. He wonders if she can feel it too? He watches her moving around the house, the sway of her hips and the movement of her skirt when she turns around. Her kind yet mischievous glint that twinkles in her eyes whenever she shares a look with him while doing something else. Every night she tends to his wounds, carefully unwrapping his shoulder, disinfecting it and then she replaces the bandage. He also finds himself worrying about her own health. Between the hospital and tending to him, she has to be tired, he knows she is. The bluish discoloration of her eyes bears witness to it.

He's edgy and tense because even though everything about her draws him in, he can't just... start a relationship with his great-great-great-great uncle's girl, can he? He reluctantly turns his thoughts to something else. Christmas is nearing and he tries to remember what happened at Christmas time in 1862. And then it slams into him like a ton of bricks. Where is his journal? He needs to write an entry and later on there's the letter to Zachary, the one that first mentions Elena. He has to write it to lead his future self or rather him _himself_ down the right path, the one that points to the placid harbor.

"Elena, have you perhaps seen a journal? Was it found? I had it in my pocket before I got shot...maybe?"

Elena pauses what she's doing and thinks about it. With a smile on her face, she answers his question with a little uncertainty. "I think so?"

She gets up and hurries out of the room. He's mesmerized by the sight, she's so spontaneous and so natural. In a matter of a few minutes, she's back bringing with her a neat pile of folded clothing, _Damon's_ journal sitting safely on the top. When she sets it down next to him, he's overwhelmed with emotion as soon as he realizes the familiar diary is new, the cover clean and the pages crisp and white instead of being yellowed with age. He thumbs through the pages in awe. Elena's sitting next to him, curious about what he's thinking as he reacquaints himself with the book's nostalgia.

"Did you get it from someone special?"

Damon pauses, it takes a moment before he's able to answer the question. "My brother. He gave it to me on my 15th birthday."

Elena looks at him curiously and their eyes meet. The air cracks with electricity streaming between them. He feels trapped under her spell but she's the one that backs away first. He wants to be an honorable man but despite his best intentions, he now knows he won't be able to resist this beautiful angel.

* * *

 _December 24, 1862_

 _Dear Diary,_

 _Tomorrow is Christmas but with the war raging, supplies are limited. Still Miss Elena somehow wrangled a Christmas goose. She is going to bake it tomorrow along with some root vegetables that she has in her cellar. She told me that her sister will be joining us along with her twin nephews. Her name is Katherine. Her husband is off bravely defending the South too. Miss Elena brought news from the hospital that on December 20th, a Confederate force attacked a major Union supply base at Holly Springs, Mississippi. Over one million in supplies were seized and a thousand men were taken prisoner._

 _Only yesterday, she brought news that President Jefferson Davis named General Butler who was formally in charge of New Orleans, an outlaw and an enemy of mankind. The President proclaimed that Butler would be hanged if the Confederates capture him._

 _There's a light dusting of snow on the ground but her cabin is warm and toasty. I like the sounds and smell of the fire as it consumes the wood. I feel guilty when I see Miss Elena carrying wood in from outside to burn in the fireplace. It's me who should be doing that but she's afraid that the stitches will rip apart if I do. I'm tired now so I will close this entry now._

 _Sincerely, Damon J. Salvatore._

* * *

Christmas passes and while he knows that he should be packing his knapsack to join his regiment, he's been ordered to stay put by not only Elena but also the doctor after he became feverish and pus started to exude from his bullet wound. Despite the increased pain and general feelings of malaise, he's glad that he doesn't have to leave _her_ yet. The mere thought of saying goodbye rips at his insides and more importantly his heart.

It strikes him as funny because it's the most domineering and deeply visceral feeling that he's ever experienced. His thoughts instead should be that he's about to join the Civil War. Many times he's found himself daydreaming about being in his ancestor's shoes and experiencing war but the thought of actually participating in it is terrifying. He knows how to handle a gun, his father made sure he and Stefan took firearm safety courses when they were younger.

He also doesn't want to contemplate that though. In a few short months, Elena may die from illness and he would join her in death in one of the greatest battles in American history. Not that it doesn't concern him, it's actually all he thinks about when he's not thinking about _her._

He doesn't write in the diary often but he knows the entry dates by heart and he knows that he can't not do it. He tried to write many times finally succeeding when he picked up the fountain pen and the ink well and put pen to paper.

Elena's arrival interrupts his musing. It's late in the afternoon and it's almost dark outside. He wants to greet her so he gingerly crawls out of bed babying his shoulder as much as he can as he does so. She's in the kitchen when he finally summons the strength to get to her. _Weird._ She usually calls his name and comes to see him first. Damon follows her and pauses, leaning against the door frame he watches her.

Standing by the window, she doesn't turn around but she must have heard him.

"How is your shoulder?" she asks quietly. He's not sure but _is her voice shaking_?

"I'm good… Elena? Are you alright?"

She shakes her head and doesn't answer so he closes the space between them and lays his hands on her shoulders. She _is_ shaking. He never touched her like this but the gesture comes to him so naturally. She surprises him even more when she turns to face him. She slips her arms around him and starts crying silently. Damon pulls her as close as possible without even considering anything else.

"What happened? Tell me…," he prompts, concern etched all over his face.

It takes a few minutes before she collects her composure but eventually she starts talking. "They'll take you away. I heard the officers pressuring the doctor to discharge everyone who can hold a weapon. If it wasn't for the infection…"

Damon's blown away by a powerful emotion. It's like it ran through his body leaving him shaken, he needs to hold her tighter to anchor himself to reality. Because she's the only thing real in this madness.

 _Is she really saying she doesn't want him to leave?_ Oh how he desires to tell her he will never leave her but he knows better. No matter what happens, their time together is limited. He's never been so painfully aware of it until this moment. She looks up at him, her eyes shining from all the tears she shed and he returns her gaze calmly.

 _If it was up to me, I'd never leave your side,_ he's telling her without words. _He'd gladly stay in this period of time if it was at all possible. But this life belongs to the past Damon. How can he steal that from him?._

He takes her face in his palms, his thumbs caressing away the remaining wetness. She shakily returns the gesture and her eyes drop to his lips for a second. Damon doesn't hesitate to bend his head and bring their lips together in a gentle kiss, that becomes hungrier the longer their breaths mingle together. Elena lets out an impatient mewl and Damon growls in response. He attacks her mouth, her lips, her teeth, her tongue and she accepts him eagerly. Her hands start traveling over his back in a caressing motion and they stay like that for several minutes, tasting and savoring each other.

Damon doesn't want to take advantage and he's still torn about his role in all of this and maybe she is too. Her kisses become more tentative and loving. Miraculously, the hunger slowly dies and they end up standing in a tight embrace.

There's so much left unsaid but they won't talk tonight. They each lie awake in their own beds contemplating what future has in store for them.

* * *

Several days pass before they get as close as they were that evening. Strangely enough, there's no awkwardness between them. They share meals, enjoy quiet evenings and touches. Looks linger but nothing else happens. Elena changes the dressings on his shoulder, repeating the painful procedure as often as necessary, but under her skilled and loving hands, he doesn't even flinch.

"It looks better," a small smile forms but doesn't reach her eyes.

Damon nods, looking at the bandage, "It feels better."

Moments pass and neither of them moves a muscle. The air grows heavy between them, Elena swallows thickly and turns away to leave but Damon reaches for her hand, encircling her wrist to halt her. "Elena... Thank you. I'm sure my arm would be useless or I would be dead if it wasn't for your care."

Elena squeezes his hand but doesn't look at him. "Don't be silly, that's my job."

"Yeah, I know but you always go above and beyond to make me feel better."

She gives a faint smile and wants to move away again but Damon doesn't let her.

"Don't go...," he whispers. "I promise I won't take advantage but I don't want you to think that you must run from me."

"I am not!" Elena denies passionately. "But... I want things... Things, that I can't have."

"You can have everything I have. When it comes to me... well, you already have me."

Elena finally stops, letting him guide her to sit down. He can't fight it, not anymore, the feelings and physical need for her are overwhelming. Desperation is billowing inside of him because he knows what the future is going to bring. If only fate and the universe wasn't against them. _Is this how his great-great-great- great uncle felt when they would spend these fleeting moments together?_

Probably. But his ancestor had no way of knowing what the future was going to bring, he had hope, hope that they could build a life together when the war was over. Damon pulls her closer and leans his forehead against her shoulder, breathing her in. Elena puts her hand on his face, caresses its scrubby texture and whispers, "I want all of you."

Damon raises his head and looks at her closely. "Elena, it's not necessary, I will wait for you, I want to marry you one day." He's not exactly sure why he's telling her these lies, he has no excuse. At least one of them should hold onto some hope, he can't take that away from her. Is it what _Damon_ told Elena?

Elena shakes her head no, her eyes sad. "No Damon, we don't know if there's any future for us. The only thing that matters is what's here and now. I don't want to leave this world without knowing what it is like to be with you. As much as the thought breaks my heart, if you were to die without it, I will always regret that I wasted this opportunity, that we wasted it."

She gets up and starts unbuttoning her dress, one button after another. Damon's breath hitches, his eyes flicking between her hypnotic ones and her fingers. When she's done, she opens it a crack and he can't even pretend to looking away. He buries his face between her breasts in the gentlest way and she holds him close cradling his head like a baby. He plants small kisses all over her skin, his fingers finding their way under her skirt. Is this how _Damon's_ first time with her went? The thought is unnerving but he stops thinking about it as soon as she raises his head to kiss him.

"Don't think of anything but this..."

 _It's like she knew the turmoil in his head._

He opens her dress in one swift motion and his mouth glues to her flawless skin, wetting every path it takes. He pushes away her underwear and no part of her body stays untouched. She's on his bed, spread out and waiting and for the love of God he can't remember why he should stop. They become one just seconds later, no thoughts of death or fate ruining the moment.

 _I will love you forever._

 _I am forever yours._

* * *

 _I apologize for the lateness of this chapter. Flu season has been hell at the hospital and work has been a nightmare. In December my county had almost 600 confirmed cases whereas in December of 2016, there were only 16._

 _Thank you all so much._ _I don't have words enough to truly express how grateful Eva and I are for all that you do for us. Thank you for loving Damon and Elena as much as we do, for all of your incredible reviews, the follows and the favorites. You're all the best of the DE world._

 _And Eva, I love you dearly and would not be here if not for your wide shoulders and incredibly big heart._

 _Chapter title: 'Behind The Wall of Sleep' by The Smithereens._

 _Please have a look at 'November Rain'. It will update again either Thursday or Friday._

 _Have a safe and wonderful day. Until next time._


	7. How It Ends

Tired after a long day's march, Damon wanders a short distance outside of their encampment. He finds a huge Oak tree, its big leafy branches creating a canopy offering him some shade from the glaring hot sun, he wipes his brow, sighing when it begins to set in the western sky. He glances to his right, the guys are piling up wood to start a fire. He's not so far away that he doesn't hear their voices singing. It's a tune of the old South.

 _"O, I wish I was in the land of cotton, Old times there are not forgotten, Look away! Look away! Look Away! Dixie Land. In Dixie Land where I was born in, Early on one frosty mornin', Look away! Look away! Look away! Dixie Land._

Damon remembers music class when he was a child. Many times they sang that song at school programs and town picnics. He likes the feeling of nostalgia, it gives him some semblance of normalcy in this crazy phenomenon that landed him in 1863 America. He's exhausted. Although he's in good physical shape, he's not used to walking twenty miles in a heavy gray uniform while carrying a knapsack. Every muscle in his body aches, his legs, his back, his neck and most of all, his feet.

Damon leans back against the tree, pulls the bill of his hat forward and closes his eyes, covering his mouth when a huge yawn wants to escape. Just as he's on the cusp, wavering between wake and sleep, he feels someone giving him a light shove. Damon yawns again then pushes his hat back, surprised to see a fellow soldier he knows as Frederick. He nods when the man sits down and leans back against the tree too.

"Gruel again for chow," Frederick mumbles, eyeing Damon before taking his hat off.

"It's war, Frederick, we don't exactly have gourmet accommodations." Damon eyes him then leans forward to pull a sprig of tall grass to chew on. He pulls his pencil and knife out, whittling it down to a point, jerking when his hand slips, giving him a small cut. He's mesmerized by the droplet of blood that forms, knowing that with a battle coming, he'll see so much more of it. Reaching into his pocket, he pulls out his journal, tearing out a piece of paper to write a note to his parents.

He knows that there's one from his ancestor around this date. The words come quickly, the letter practically writes itself. It's getting darker and harder to see so he finishes it and puts it in an envelope. Just as he finishes, he feels Frederick jostles his arm again saying that it's time to eat. Reluctantly he gets up, his muscles rebel reminding him that he's not used to such physical exertion. He follows his friend back to camp, gets in the food line and waits his turn.

Before retiring to his tent, Damon walks a short distance away from their encampment again. He finds a small clearing and looks up at the sky. It's a clear night with a million twinkling stars. The big dipper is plain to see and as he scans the sky, he also finds the North Star. Polaris is located in the constellation of Ursa Minor, the Little Bear. It sometimes also goes by the name " _Stella Polaris."_ The seven stars from which they derive a bear are also known as the Little Dipper.

Polaris, the North Star, lies at the end of the handle of the Little Dipper, whose stars are rather faint. Its four faintest stars can be blotted out with very little moonlight or street lighting. Damon feels very fortunate, not only to be able to see things that are difficult with the city lights but most of all because whatever magic landed him here, he got to meet her.

He can't help but wonder if she's looking up at the same sky? Is she thinking about him the way his mind is always on her? Is she missing him as much he misses her already? Because he's fallen through the looking glass and knows what lies ahead, he tried to convince her to leave Fredericksburg as soon as possible. It was a failed and feeble attempt to do the right thing, to try to change the course of history, to change her fate. She could see that he was worried about her. In the end, she didn't promise that she'd leave but she didn't say no adamantly either.

When he hears a crackling sound, he snaps his head to his left, relaxing a bit when he sees Jasper, another one of the other Damon's friends, or so they've told him, sharing things that only friends would share.

"Captain said that everyone should get back to camp. We're marching again at daylight."

Damon nods and after taking one more long look at the tremendous expanse above, he follows Jasper back to camp and retires for the night as soon as he reaches his tent.

* * *

As they march along the dirt roads, they reach a small town. Their commander, Major General Joseph Hooker dismounts his horse, signaling the men to stop. When Damon lays eyes on a well, the first thing he can think of is to get something to drink. He pulls the bucket up and splashes his face. It feels good. Both Frederick and Jasper do the same and then they fill their canteens, soon there's a line of men just as parched as he is. Once they have their fill, orders come to set up camp for the night.

Not long after they're done and can rest a little bit, the town folks start bringing food for them. Damon bites in a hunk of fresh baked bread. He's never tasted anything quite so good, not after the junk he's had to eat while being held captive in this century. When they finish, Damon and Frederick along with a few other soldiers venture into the town, they set up their tents on the outskirts. When they see a tavern, the pour in and order beers.

While raising the tankard to his lips, he happens to notice General Hooker chatting with General Thomas Jackson, history knows him as Stonewall Jackson. He was a war hero and one of the South's most successful generals during the Civil War. After a difficult childhood, he graduated from the U.S. Military Academy at West Point, New York, in time to fight in the Mexican War. He then left the military to pursue a teaching career.

After his home state of Virginia seceded from the Union in 1861, Jackson joined the Confederate army and quickly forged his reputation for fearlessness and tenacity during the Shenandoah Valley Campaign later that same year. He served under General Robert E. Lee for much of the Civil War. Jackson was a decisive factor in many significant battles until his mortal wounding by friendly fire at the age of 39 during the Battle of Chancellorsville in May 1863.

Damon is actually in awe, his gaze frozen on the man, the legend. Damon knows that General Jackson will die in the upcoming battle. He startles out of his reverie when he feels a nudge.

"Why are you staring at General Jackson?"

"No reason, I've just never seen him before," Damon explains, knowing that he cannot reveal how he really knows who the man is. He picks up his tankard again and swallows what's left before clapping on the bar top for a refill, another round for the guys. Once they finish their round, they leave the tavern to go back to their encampment. Along the way, they see a woman screaming, an older man and woman trying to comfort her. Damon shares a look with his comrades then walks over to them.

"Can I be of assistance?"

"Thank you soldier for asking but no. There's a Typhus outbreak in the Fredericksburg, Tappahannock area. Many people have already succumbed to it including my Dorothy's husband. Godspeed, soldier," he says softly and then turns away just in time to catch the young woman when she faints.

Damon is stunned and yet he's not. He knew this was coming and the only thing that fills his mind is the need to get to her. It's overwhelming, burning like a wildfire through his veins with each pump of his frantically beating heart. He and Jasper retreat to their tent, the only thought on Damon's mind is to reach her. He'll be the happiest soldier in this fucking war if he finds her home empty. Either way, he has to know.

He lies in wait. As soon as Jasper drifts off to sleep, as quietly as he can he escapes from the tent. He darts around others, slowly and methodically till he's away from the camp. The only light he has is the light of the moon. He can't walk so he pivots and gingerly walks around the perimeter of the camp till he reaches the pen where the horses are tied up. He can't risk taking the time to steal a saddle so very, very quietly, he unties the reins of a black stallion.

As quietly as he can, he leads it away from the others and when he feels safe, he mounts it and then starts galloping towards Fredericksburg. He knows that desertion is punishable by hanging but he can't not. He digs his heals into the horse's side, urging him to go faster. The only thing on his mind is getting to _her_.

He rides all night long by the break of dawn, he can barely keep his eyes open, he dismounts the horse when he finds an abandoned well. After he and the horse drink, he forces himself to get back on and he rides long and hard until he finally reaches her home which is on the outskirts of Fredericksburg. He dismounts the animal on a run and hurries towards the front door. Just as he's about to push it open, he's stopped in his tracks by an older woman.

"Where's Elena? I need to see Elena now."

"She's dying," the woman says, blocking his entry into the cabin.

"No, no, no, it's not true, it's not. We're going to get married and have a family."

"I'm sorry soldier. I truly am," she says softly while laying her hand gently on his forearm.

Damon's heart is beating so hard against his chest, the gushes of blood roaring his ears so loudly that he can barely hear the woman, he watches her lips move but is lost. His eyes dart around wildly like a caged animal. The only thing that makes sense is being with her.

"Please, let me be with her then."

She eyes him carefully and then finally steps aside. Damon runs into her bedroom. His breath catches in his throat when he sees her. She's laying on her side, her back to him. He doesn't waste another second and hurries to her bedside. "Elena," he whispers, brushing a strand of her sweat dampened hair behind her ear. She's burning up with fever, her lips are cracked and dry. Slowly she turns her head, her eyes are cloudy and without recognition. It's then that he sees her swollen belly, ripe with child.

 _How could this be? Is it...? Is it possible that the child is his?_

Just as these questions fill his mind, he accepts the truth. When he was leaving Elena all those months ago, she wasn't alone. His legs wobble and can no longer support his weight. He lands on the floor in a heap.

It takes a few minutes for the shock to wear off and then he jumps to his feet and climbs onto the bed with her. He holds her in his arms and caresses her forehead and smooths her hair and then lowers his palm to stroke her bump. "God, Elena. You can't leave me, you can't." Tears form in his eyes and as much as he doesn't want to cry, he can't help it. When she goes, she'll take their child with her. _It's so unfair._

When she opens her eyes again, it seems like she has a moment of lucidity because she raises a shaky hand to palm his cheek. "Damon, you must be safe, you shouldn't be here." When she tries to continue, he stops her.

"Save your energy, sweetheart. I have to get you out of here, we have to go where you can get care, I need you to live, Elena."

"I should have listened to you," she manages to get out, her voice barely audible.

"As soon as you're well, I'm going to marry you," he says softly. When he shifts a bit, she cries out in pain and it kills him. His belly is twisting inside, never has he felt pain like this but he isn't going to burden her. He frantically tries to think of something, anything he can do to change her fate but it's 1863, not 2017. His heart starts to pound chaotically. His eyes fill with moisture, he's powerless to stop this. Damon drops his eyes to her still beautiful form. He has to be strong so she can leave this world in peace and without fear.

He drifts off to sleep but her painful moans startle him awake. When he hears the door, he looks up, grateful when the old woman brings a basin of water and a cloth. Damon silently thanks her and then dabs Elena's skin. As night turns into day, her cries almost kill him. The thought that he'll never know his child or get to raise it with her, the depth of his pain is an endless pit of raw visceral agony.

He looks down at her again. Her breaths are coming farther and farther apart. He whispers how much he loves her and how they're going to be married and he talks about names for their baby. With the end nearing, he hugs her close. "I promise, I promise you... I promise that we'll be together. Hold onto to that, my love."

And then with a whimper her eyes open, brown joining blue for the final time as she breathes her last...

* * *

Damon eyes Jasper then walks out of his tent to get a cup of coffee. His journal is in his uniform pocket so he takes a big swallow of coffee and then walks back to his tent. He still limps having been on the receiving end of several lashes for deserting. But because they need all of the able bodied men they can get and because he returned voluntarily, he's escaped prison. He drops onto his cot and opens the book. He tears out a couple of pages and then begins writing.

 _June 30, 1862_

 _Dear Zachary,_

When tears start to fill his eyes he has to stop because they blur his vision. He's never felt such intense agony before in his life. The worst pain that he can ever remember was when his dog, Clarence, died when he was ten. But this, this is torture, he not only lost her, he lost his child too. He'll never get over this, he's sure of it. The anguish, the unending ache that burns inside of him whenever he closes them. It's indescribable.

He wipes his eyes on his shirt sleeve. He can't help but wonder if this is how his ancestor felt too, knowing that she was gone forever and having to live with the anguish of never getting to know his child. Damon cries out, "Make it stop, please make it stop." _No one can._

Frederick peaks into the tent and when Damon nods that he's okay, his friend gives him a tight smile and then ducks out of the tent, leaving Damon alone once again in sorrow and despair. He wipes his eyes once more and then starts to write again.

 _I want to be with her brother and although I will do nothing to cause my death, she wouldn't approve of that, I will welcome it when it comes._

 _Sincerely, Damon J. Salvatore._

* * *

 _July 3, 1863_

Damon stands in line with the other men in his regiment along with 15,000 other men. Within just a short time, he'll have the answer to his question. Can he die in a past that isn't even his own? He surveys the landscape, miles of open field lie in front of them along with the Army of the Potomac under the command of Major General George Meade. They're positioned along Cemetery Ride. Just yesterday, the Confederates had hammered each flank of the Union line but couldn't break through. As they wait for the signal to march, Damon recalls sitting in front of the fire just this morning. Despite his melancholy, he was stunned to lay eyes on General Robert E. Lee. The man, even in the 21st century is still a much revered and beloved General. Now as he waits in line, he once again looks at the man, the legend.

"General," says Longstreet, "I have been a soldier all my life. I have been with soldiers engaged in fights by couples, by squads, companies, regiments, divisions, and armies, and should know as well as anyone what soldiers can do. It is my opinion that no 15,000 men ever arrayed for battle can take that position."

Damon listens in as General Lee brushes off General Longstreet's concerns and tells him to summon Pickett. Damon runs his hands over the smooth metal of his rifle. _What would history look like if only the General had listened?_

Lee decides to switch the point of assault northward. Their target is a small clump of trees just under a mile away on Cemetery Ridge. Lee's plan is simple: a tremendous bombardment by all available Confederate artillery to sweep the Union line around the trees, while Southern infantry is to remain behind Seminary Ridge, out of sight of the enemy. As soon as the artillery barrage is finished, the infantry will march down the hill, across the valley and attempt to break the Federal line, splitting the Army of the Potomac in half.

Damon wonders if the Federal army would have defeated the South if Lee had won at Gettysburg?

Pickett's division is brought up. On his right are brigades commanded by Brig. Gen. Cadmus Wilcox and Colonel David Lang. On Pickett's left, Maj. Gen. Henry Heth's division, now commanded by Brig. Gen. Johnston Pettigrew also falls into line. To Pettigrew's rear, two brigades from Maj. Gen. Dorsey Pender's division assemble. In all, something less than 15,000 effective are now gathered to deliver the crowning blow for Southern independence. Fifty Confederate battle flags are to be presented to the enemy along a mile-long front. They are tough, proud men, the best their nation has to offer.

Damon knows the futility of it, the carnage that's about to occur but he's powerless to stop it. History can't be changed for if it is, there will be no United States.

At precisely 1:07 p.m., the first Rebel signal gun is fired. For a brief moment, time stands still as the blue-gray puff of smoke rises eerily over the valley. The massed batteries, firing by salvos, begin raining death and destruction onto their enemy.

Damon watches in awe. It's as if the men are on dress parade, fifty stands of colors are unfurling to the enemy. Ahead of them lay four-fifths of a mile of prime Pennsylvania farmland, interwoven with fences, that rise gradually to the crest of the ridge. Centered on the ridge is the famous clump of trees. Damon knows that those who are about to witness the coming charge will have the vision etched in their minds for the rest of their lives. He snaps his head when he hears General Lo Armistead turning to one of the color bearers. "Are you going to put those colors on the enemy's works today?"

"I will try, sir, and if mortal man can do it, it shall be done!" the man replies, standing at attention.

"Up, men, and to your posts!" cries General Pickett. "Don't forget today that you are from old Virginia!"

Pickett orders, "Left oblique," and then Damon and 4,500 men in his division respond. It takes Pickett's division two or three minutes to complete the change of direction, and all that time the shells keep falling. A shell bursts not far from Damon. He watches in horror as ten men drop from a single shot. When the command to halt is given, the Confederate lines dress and realign while under fire. They reform and charge again. Union batteries are punishing Pickett's right. Their air is cloudy with smoke and the smell acrid. There are blood and bodies all around Damon, he's sickened by what he sees but he marches forward anyway, obeying his General's commands.

Just as Damon and the men beside him reach the line, he feels a sharp stabbing pain. Too stunned to speak, his face contorts in pain when he looks at the face of the Union Soldier as he pulls out the bayonet that impaled him.

Damon lowers his eyes to where his now bloody hands are clutching his middle, his mouth falls open, blood begins to leak out from the corners of it, his eyes roll back as he collapses onto the now bloody battlefield. His friend drops down beside him. The last thing he sees is _her_ outstretched hand before he takes his last breath at the same time his blue eyes dim when Frederick sweeps his hand over his face, closing them for the final time.

* * *

** _On July 3, 1863, troops under Confederate General George Pickett begin a massive attack against the center of the Union lines on the climactic third day of the Battle of Gettysburg, the largest engagement of the war. For the first two days of the battle, General Robert E Lee's Army of Northern Virginia had battered General George Meade's Army of the Potomac. The day before Pickett's Charge, the Confederates had hammered each flank of the Union line but could not break through._

 _On day 3, Lee decided to attack the Union center, stationed on Cemetery Ridge, after making another unsuccessful attempt on the Union right flank at Culp's Hill in the morning. The majority of the force consisted of Pickett's division, but there were other units represented among the 15,000 attackers._

 _After a long Confederate artillery bombardment, the Rebel force moved through the open field and up the slight rise of Cemetery Ridge. But by the time they reached the Union line, the attack had been broken into the many units and they were unable to penetrate the Yankee center._

 _The failed attack effectively ended the Battle of Gettysburg. On July 4, Lee began to withdraw his forces to Virginia. The casualties for both armies were staggering. Lee lost 28,000 of his 75,000 soldiers and Union losses stood at over 22,000. It was the last time Lee threatened Northern territory._

* * *

 _There are still a few chapters left..._

 _Eva and I want to thank you all so very much. Seriously you're an incredible group of people, we're in awe every day of what you do for us. We don't even begin to know how to thank you all enough. You surprise us and inspire us to keep writing stories._

 _Thank you Eva. You're the best._

 _Chapter title: 'How It Ends' by Devotchka_ _._

 _Both Eva and I have met some truly incredible people, many we consider dear personal friends through DE, readers and other writers among them. Check out their stories if you're interested. Short on words, Florencia7, Mariah April May, Salvatoreboys4ever, Justinia Korax, deepwater1978, TheLittle MissVixen and VitsAsh. Amazing Aisha and StarlightSo are all new writers._

 _I hope you all have a fabulous day. Be safe and we'll see you, hopefully tomorrow with "November Rain"._


	8. Alone

Having awakened at one in the afternoon with a massive headache after the bender he and Damon went on last evening, Stefan stumbles into the kitchen to get a bottle of water. He gulps it down, quickly following it with a second one. After taking some Advil, he makes some coffee and walks outside to get Damon's newspaper. He spends most of the afternoon recuperating from his God awful hangover. When the afternoon passes and Damon is nowhere to be seen, Stefan starts to worry. He hurries up the stairs to his brother's bedroom. A little part of him is terrified of going inside for fear of finding something that he doesn't want to find. Did they really drink that much last night that he could have...

Swallowing his fear, he twists open the doorknob and walks inside. He sighs visibly, his shoulders relaxing when he sees the rise and fall of his chest. Approaching the bedside, he gasps audibly when he sees the tortured look on Damon's face. _He must be having a hell of nightmare._

"Damon?"

A familiar voice is slowly pulling him into consciousness. He tries to ignore it, he doesn't want to... he wants to sleep forever. There's nothing but pain, both physical and emotional, in the real world. Suddenly the night terrors are gone and he feels strangely calm the moment he sees _her_ hand.

"Damon!"

The voice is becoming more insistent, it's harder to ignore. Is it Frederick? Jasper? When he sees her face, her mouth is moving but he can't hear her. Oddly enough she's pointing to a bright light, it's pristine, unblemished and blinding.

"Damon! Wake up, damn it."

 _No._

Increasingly frantic because no matter how hard he shakes him, Damon still isn't waking up. Seeing no other option, Stefan releases his grip. "You leave me no choice, brother."

 _Stefan?_

Before he has a chance to react, a splash of cold water drenches him and his bedding in Stefan's last ditch effort to pull him back to consciousness. Damon gasps for air, feeling like a new born baby sucking in its first breath. When he lurches upright, he knocks Stefan off the bed and onto the floor in a heap.

"Thank God you're awake," Stefan blurts out while clumsily getting to his feet. "You slept like you were dead."

Damon doesn't find it funny at all. He's breathing so heavily that he's panting for air as he tries to wrap his mind around what he witnessed. _Was it all a dream?_ It can't be, can it? It felt too real, too concrete, and yet.…

"How…?" he starts, his voice raspy. "How long…?"

Now that he knows his brother is okay, Stefan chuckles. "How long did you sleep? Like the whole day, man? It's almost six."

"A day? Really?" Damon breathes out incredulously, confusion washing all over his face. He looks at his hands, his skin, pinching himself to see if he's corporeal.

"Yes, Damon, really!" Stefan seems to be in a good mood. "You must have been drunker than I thought. Do you even remember how we got back here last night? It was a hell of a ride."

Damon looks at him perplexed. Although he's still soaking wet, he doesn't even acknowledge it.

"Are you alright, brother?" he asks when Damon still looks like he's seen a ghost.

"I guess…" Damon can't find the strength to explain, he feels so numb.

 _Was it really all just a dream?_

* * *

He should probably feel relieved, he does, he could have been dead... Alive trumps dead but still. Damon mourns for the ancestor he never met, for the life he lost, for Elena, for his great, great, great, uncle or aunt that died along with her. Although nothing about this is _his_ story, it certainly feels like it was. His heart hurts and his body feels crippled from the experience. Exhausted and tired, he can't even begin to explain how he could have lived the last few months of _Damon's_ life.

 _And now he needs to accept it was just one drunken night._

"Hey, you're clearly still hungover, are you sure you're okay?" Stefan, ready to leave, sums up the situation. Damon just rolls his eyes in his brother's direction.

"You're a smartass, you know that! And you seem to be just fine. How is that, I've always been able to drink you under the table?"

"I was just as drunk as you were."

Damon eyes him warily. Maybe Stefan is right? Maybe he is finally losing his marbles. He's probably lucky he woke up at all.

"Look, Damon…., What I'm trying to say... is.. I'm glad we talked. And got drunk. It was a good night. Thank you."

Damon gives him a small smile, he can see the honesty and tries to appreciate it. "Yeah?"

When Stefan nods, Damon forces a smile. "Anytime brother."

Stefan pats his shoulder and then waves at him as he's backing out of the driveway.

Damon wishes his mind wasn't a chaotic mess of memories, past and present, real and fantasy.

* * *

He sits on his front steps for more than an hour, staring into space and still trying to make some sense of what he saw, of what he lived through. When he hears a bark, he leans over and tosses a Frisbee to Cooper but the moment the dog runs off, Damon's mind drifts again.

Cooper gets bored or maybe he's a little bit unsure about what happened to his master and starts yelping loudly to get his attention. When it doesn't have the desired effect, he starts poking him with his muzzle until Damon finally responds. "Okay Coop," he laughs then gets up and spurs him to follow.

"I think you're right buddy, we do need to get a little exercise."

They start walking down the familiar path that circles around the lake. At least Cooper knows where he's going because soon enough he's barking at his brother when they're in eye shot of Nik's place. He pulls free and bounds over to the other dog. Damon catches up with him just as Nik comes out on the porch.

"Hey, you two! Clearly you can't get enough of our company."

Damon joins him on the porch. "Hey, Nik."

Niklaus looks at him closely. He can see that something is on Damon's mind but he won't push until his friend is ready to talk. "Something to drink?"

Damon snaps his head, his eyes meeting Nik's as he takes a seat on one of the patio chairs.

"I heard you and Stefan drained the bar yesterday but something's telling me you could use one more…"

"You would be right about that. Thanks, Nik."

Nik gives him another look and disappears inside, reappearing shortly with two large hurricane glasses in his hands. "Here you go, buddy."

Damon mumbles a thank you under his breath.

"Man, you look terrible," Nik grins. "I don't ever remember seeing you this wasted, even after that blitz we went on after our senior prom. Man, my head still throbs when I think of that night." When Damon looks over, he clinks their glasses together, "Cheers."

"I'm not hungover."

"No? You could have fooled me."

They're sipping their drinks in companionable silence, Damon doesn't feel like himself no matter how hard he tries. Watching the dogs frolicking, playing around and running like they did when they were puppies, the quiet simplicity of the moment is helping to calm his shattered nerves. Nik brings his glass to his lips while watching his normally chatty friend. He can't help but wonder what's troubling Damon.

"It must have been some party, although you could have knocked me over with a feather when I heard it was Stefan. Don't take this the wrong way, buddy but you look like you've aged 100 years."

Damon flinches at the choice of words. "It wasn't the party. I mean, it was good, but it wasn't it."

"Is it about your research?" Nik's curiosity is picked up.

"Sort of... I'm not sure I want to talk about it..., yet."

Nik finally picks up on the seriousness in his friend's expression. "What happened?" he asks concerned now.

Damon shortly looks at him and gets up. "That's the thing. Nothing. _Nothing_ really happened."

* * *

 _"Hey, Damon?"_

"Mayor...?!"

 _"Drop the formalities son, I'm not Mayor to you."_

Damon's genuinely happy to hear his best friend's father. For as long as he can remember he's always called him.. "Uncle Mike. It's good to hear from you. I hope everything is alright?"

 _"Of course it is. I was wondering..., how would you like to go through the town's archives when you have time? I started to do it but it's proven to be much more difficult and time consuming than I could have imagined. I know that history runs in your blood so... ?"_

"I'd love that," spills from Damon's mouth before he even gives it a thought. But once the excitement of his initial reaction begins to wane slight, he can't help but ask himself if he really wants to dig up anything new about _Damon_ and his life? Doesn't he already know enough about _his_ heartbreaking loss and all the things that weren't meant to be? "I... I...," he starts but Mikael interrupts him.

 _"Good, I'd ask my son, but he has such little respect for our traditions and history. I think you're exactly the right person for the job."_

"Thanks. I'm honored that you thought of me. Just let me know when you want me, I'm flexible enough to make time for you."

"You can come tomorrow, I'll be there. As you know, the archive department is abandoned most of the time. You can make it your office until the end of summer. I had a new computer installed down there so you can work on your column at the same time if you need to."

"Really? That sounds wonderful, uncle Mike." Despite the melancholy he still feels, he can't help but be a little excited about what he might uncover.

Mikael laughs, clearly satisfied that he managed to get some enthusiasm out of him. _"Alright then. See you tomorrow?"_

"I'll be there. Thanks!"

Damon's not sure why this idea excites him, maybe it's because he's been so enraptured of the subject for so very long and perhaps it's his love and passion for history? Whatever the reason, he wants to know more. And he needs to thank Nik, he's sure he's somehow responsible for this opportunity.

* * *

 _The fog and dust deteriorate his field of vision, he can see nothing except shadows that might be his fellow soldiers. The voices are strangely muffled and Damon wonders if it's just an echo of some battle or if he's losing contact with reality again. Is he dead now? Is this what his dying mind perceived while he was already leaving his ancestor's body? He wants to hold onto the feeling, the need to get down to the nitty-gritty, but it's already slipping between his fingers._

 _"Damon...," he hears her sweet voice_ and with that, his eyes slowly open.

* * *

Mikael Mikaelson has been more than his best friend's father for as long as he can remember. It's the same as his dad, Zachary, is to Nik and the rest of his siblings. They spent hours at each others houses, he can remember playing hide and seek and other silly kids games. They played baseball on the same team, his dad and Mikael were their coaches. They came in first place that year. The swimming hole down at the lake was their favorite escape.

Uncle Mike has always been his biggest champion when Damon decided to become a history major in college, later specializing in the American Civil War. He wanted to turn his love of history into another love, that of writing. Mikael gave him his first opportunity at his newspaper when he was in high school. He got to do a small column every week on what was going on, sporting events, class projects, plays, concerts that sort of thing. Damon has his first article from the Mystic Falls Gazette framed and hanging on the wall in his home office. He did all that to try to encourage his young skull full of mush as his dad would say once in awhile. He did all of that without trying to nudge Damon in one direction or the other.

He gave him the same support he gave his own sons. His parents never needed to worry when a teenaged Damon was headed to spend the weekend at the Mikaelson home. Damon sucks in a deep breath then pulls open one side of the double doors at City Hall. It's a small town so the building is rather small but it's old, dating back to the late 1850's. The stone work is exemplary. The cornerstone outside memorializes the men who helped to build it and another monument is dedicated to the local young men that died in the Civil War, including one Damon Jonah Salvatore.

When he steps into the Mayor's office, he comes to face with Mikael's trusted assisted, the one and only Honoria Fell. She's older but she's tough as nails and could easily be in a command of regiment and make her men scurry. Damon remembers how scared they all were of her imposing figure when they were kids. Every Halloween, she would dress up like the Wicked Witch of the West and would scare the bejeebies out of them. No one wanted to take the candied apples she made for fear they were tainted.

Damon finds himself laughing under his breath. They couldn't have been more wrong about her, she's really a great lady and very kind too.

"Damon!" She stands up to shake his hand looking pleased. "How are Zachary and your mother? I haven't seen either of them for awhile."

"They're good and thank you for asking. Both of my parents have their hands full with Stefan's upcoming wedding."

"Ah, I heard. Give them my best wishes will you?"

"I will be sure to pass on your best regards. Is he….?"

"Yes of course, you can come in, he's waiting for you."

Honoria peeps inside the Mayor's office to notify him of Damon's arrival and gestures for him to come inside, then she quietly closes the door behind her.

Mikael stands up to greet Damon with a hug. "I swear you look taller and taller," he jokes and for some indescribable reason Damon feels better in his presence.

"Thank you, uncle, exactly what I needed to hear," which is actually pretty close to the truth.

"Come," he nudges Damon, "I have the room ready for you."

The archive is usually a dark inhospitable, dank smelling room, Damon's been there a few times when doing research for some of his articles. But now it's well ventilated, there's more light, florescent ceiling lights and a nice roomy table to spread documents out on, a computer and brand new shelves to put the cataloged papers, photos and other items in order.

"Wow," he turns to Mikael.

"Do you have everything you need?"

Damon nods excitedly.

"I trust you, Damon, and I know I don't need to say this but I'm going to anyway, as the Mayor and not your uncle. I expect everything to be sorted meticulously and placed in proper order. I want these relics of our town to be available for generations to come. That's why I want you to scan them into the computer while you're doing it. That way should there ever be a fire or something and we lose these treasures, at least we'll still have the computer records. I believe you have enough information here to write a whole series of books on the Civil War but that's for you to decide of course."

Damon is touched but when he tries to express his gratitude, Mikael just waves him off.

"It's alright son. If you find that you're lacking, something you need, let me know. And if you find anything interesting, something that's been hidden for a well the better part of a century and a half, don't hesitate to give me a ring. Perhaps the town can profit from you work too. If you need a break, there's a break room down the hall with a coffee pot and a fridge. It's full of soda and ice water. I repeat, if you need anything, you know where to find me," he heads to the door, where he stops for a moment.

He looks over his shoulder at Damon. "Oh, and that box under the window. Those are artifacts and treasures that Honoria managed to collect from some of the families. There's no doubt in my mind that they'll open up a whole new world, you have never seen them before, I guarantee it."

Damon knows he means founding families, he's excited for what they were able to find. He thanks Mikael again and watches him till he closes the door, shutting Damon off from his world. Damon steps back and looks at the daunting task before him. He shakes his head, slips off his jacket and after he rolls up his sleeves, he gets into work.

* * *

It's been a pretty exhausting day but Damon finally feels like he's come up with a plan that is going to make this job a little bit easier. A lot of the documents are in no order at all aside from being categorized by year but inside the files, the dates are a miss match of disorder.

He now knows more about _Damon_ than he ever had before. He hopes that he can somehow test his theory about his surreal experience. It felt so real, so true but how could it be? He's alive and breathing in 2018, it couldn't have been real but what if... what if some unknown phenomena made it possible, a modern day _Philadelphia Experiment?_

Damon drops his face in his hands for a few seconds, no matter how hard he tries to come up with a plausible explanation, he's left grasping at straws. He stands up to stretch his limbs a bit, his eyes raking over the room.

This job is going to be so much more work than he originally thought but this stuff is what he lives for. Stefan and Nik too have teased him that he gets hard over stuff like this. Although he laughed at them, it really wasn't that far fetched.

Although he barely made a dent in the job today, he wasn't entirely unsuccessful either. Honoria's box was a treasure in and of itself. It is filled with photographs, letters, written notes, recipes and other things that would be meaningless to some but to Damon, they're as valuable as The Hope Diamond. As he was carefully looking through the box, he found a few photographs with Damon, one of the Salvatore family and an old poster advertising a town event. He's going to have to look more closely at them later.

He drives home after a tiring day. After having an ice cold bottle of beer, he strips out of his clothes and steps into the bathroom, relaxing with a long and refreshing shower. By the time he steps out, he feels almost normal. _Almost._ He definitely needs to shave, so he ignores the warring voices in his head and focuses on the routine itself. He starts to spread a dollop of shaving cream on his face when his eye happens to catch a glimpse of something that shouldn't be there... not to this extent anyway.

 _Looking at his reflection in the mirror, Damon is stunned to see a large scar on his left shoulder._

* * *

 _Thank you all so much._ _I don't have words enough to truly express how grateful Eva and I are for all that you do for us. Thank you for loving Damon and Elena as much as we do, for all of your incredible reviews, the follows and the favorites... Really, you're all amazing and beautiful people, thank you._

 _Philadelphia Experiment: The Philadelphia Experiment story is one of time travel, teleportation and deep-rooted conspiracy. Officially it's a footnote in US history with the true story of events obscured by rumors spanning decades. As the story goes, during the deep days of WW2, a US Naval Destroyer, the USS Eldridge allegedly vanished from the waters outside of Philadelphia, only to reappear instantaneously hundreds of miles away._

 _And Eva, I love you dearly, thank you._

 _Chapter title: 'Alone' by Heart._

 _Please have a look at 'November Rain'._

 _Have a safe and wonderful day. Until next time._


	9. The Infinity of Time and Space

Damon stares at his body in the mirror for some time. He's at a loss to explain it, his mind a blur of confusing thoughts. It can't be, it just can't. Not knowing what else to do and knowing he needs to talk to someone, he grabs his cellphone and calls Nik. Along with the high pitch, the lilt of his voice is almost panicked sounding when he tells his friend that he needs to see him right away.

As soon as Nik agrees, the phone slips from his hand as he stumbles backwards, landing on his ass on his bedroom floor. He sits like that until he hears Cooper's agitated barking followed by the loud sound of banging on the front door.

Swallowing thickly, he stands on shaky legs. Somehow he manages to slip on a tee shirt and a pair of athletic shorts. When he finally gets his wits about him, he hurries to the front door, pulling it open to let Nik in while Bear and Cooper frolic outside in his fenced yard.

Nik breathes a sigh of relief. "I thought someone attacked you or something!" he'd gladly punch Damon for putting the fear of God in him.

"No, I'm sorry. But you need to see this and tell me if I should take Stefan up on his offer to deliver me right into a mental health facility... or not."

Nik looks curious. "Because?" he asks carefully, his gaze focusing on his best friend.

Damon motions him to sit down and pours them each a considerable amount of his best bourbon, takes a deep breath and pulls apart his shirt, baring his shoulder.

"What do you see?"

Bewildered by his best friend's odd behavior, Nik peruses his form, not quite understanding what Damon is getting at. "Your shoulder? What's got you so rattled?"

Damon doesn't say anything, instead he just stares at his friend. Perplexed, Nik examines the bared part on Damon's body. "You mean your shoulder? You got that when we were thirteen. Surely you remember? We were climbing that tree, you fell and landed on that sharp branch? My mom had to drive you to the hospital."

"Look at it again, Nik, is it the same scar? This long?! This visible?"

Nik bends his head down again and his breath hitches. "It's weird... I hardly remember it, it became almost invisible but... it can't be!" He looks incredulously at Damon.

"That's not all."

"What?" Nik asks, incredulity written all over his face as Damon lifts his shirt and points to a pinkish scar on his gut. "That's your appendix scar, you had it removed at sixteen. You have to remember that... What's going on here, Damon?"

Damon shakes his head back and forth. "No, Nik, this is on my left side and much higher. My appendix scar is on my right side."

They both sit for several minutes in absolute silence, then Nik raises his head and asks; "What in the hell did happen to you?"

* * *

His mind is in a constant state of turmoil. When one became two and started nearing 2:30, he got up and took a couple of Tylenol PM. To his dismay, it didn't do a damn bit of good, he still tossed and turned, buried his head under the pillow in a futile attempt to sleep. He just can't shut his mind down long enough to get even an hour of good sleep.

As the clock ticks 6:00, he finally gets up and drags himself out of bed and into the bathroom. As soon as he washes his face and stares for another several minutes at these new and inexplicable scars, he dresses and then drives downtown. Fortunately Mikael gave him a key so he's able to get inside at this early hour.

The mayor offered the full resources of the place. He decides the first thing he's going to do is work on his magazine article for next month's issue. The subject he chose is Joshua Lawrence Chamberlain. A veritable icon of Civil War, he is best known for his heroic participation in the Battle of Gettysburg. Chamberlain and his regiment, the 20th Maine Infantry, gained notoriety for their desperate bayonet charge down Little Round Top on the Second Day of the Battle. This one deed is only one face of the man who later wrote, "In great deeds something abides."

Born in Brewer, Maine in 1828, Chamberlain was the eldest of five children born to Joshua and Sarah Brastow Chamberlain. The elder Chamberlain, an admirer of all things military, named his son after sea Captain James Lawrence, famous for his quote "Don't give up the ship."

The studious Lawrence Chamberlain graduated from Bowdoin College in 1852. In 1855, after attending Bangor Theological Seminary, Chamberlain and his new wife, Fannie, returned to Bowdoin to begin a career as a professor of languages and rhetoric.

The outbreak of war, however, weighed heavily upon Chamberlain, who desperately wanted to serve his country. Over the objections of the College, Chamberlain offered his services to the governor of Maine who appointed him Lieutenant Colonel of the newly raised 20th Maine regiment. The scholar-turned-soldier would take advantage of his position as second-in-command and studied every military work he could find under the close tutelage of his commander, West Point graduate Col. Adelbert Ames.

On July 2, 1863, Chamberlain was posted on the extreme left of the Federal line at Little Round Top—just in time to face Confederate General John B. Hood's attack on the Union flank. Exhausted after repulsing repeated assaults, the 20th Maine, out of ammunition, executed a bayonet charge, dislodging their attackers and securing General Meade's embattled left. Though the exact origin of the charge is still the subject of debate, Congress awarded Chamberlain the Medal of Honor for "conspicuous gallantry."

Damon stands up to stretch and let a yawn escape. He has too much to do, his head is still a maelstrom so he takes a break to get some coffee and a breath of fresh air before returning to the task before him.

* * *

Shortly after Gettysburg, Chamberlain was given command of a brigade in the Fifth Corps and would retain it until the end of the war. Throughout the war, Chamberlain was wounded six times, most grievously at Petersburg in June 1864. Believing this wound to be mortal, Congress promoted Chamberlain to the rank of Brigadier General. Chamberlain, however, would survive the wound, and return to the front in time to play a pivotal role in the Appomattox Campaign. On April 12, 1865, Brigadier General Chamberlain received the Confederate surrender of arms. Rising to the occasion, the general ordered his men to salute their vanquished foes.

Damon starts typing at a furious pace. He has a good feeling that he's finally beginning to get somewhere and take his mind off of the last twelve hours or so.

 _Not that he's anywhere close to making sense of his baffling experience._

One of these days he must go back to see that field where _Damon_ spent his last moments, his life ending along with so many others in the ill fated Pickett's Charge. Without realizing it, he runs his palm over the scar on his belly, it's almost as if he can feel the bayonet enter. He swallows thickly knowing he'll never be able to come up with a plausible explanation for its existence.

He remembers visiting that hallowed ground where Damon died before. When he was a young boy, around fifth grade, his dad took him to Gettysburg National Military Park while his mom took Stefan to a baseball camp. It helped foster in him a love for and respect of history.

As he grew up, he ate stuff like that up, learning about many of America's heroes throughout her history. Now he has a new appreciation for his ancestor walking across that open field to almost certain death, he starts to feel overwhelmed at what happened there on that day. He can't help but think that it'll feel different to set foot on that field when he visits that sacred sight again. When he finishes the article and sends it to his editor, he's still restless so he pulls open a file containing the archival treasures.

His digging proves worthwhile when he finds a handwritten entry from Damon's older brother. He learns something he didn't know before, Zachary was a member of the town council and as such was dispatched to Tappahannock for both Mystic Falls business and personal pleasure, his wife Bonita having relatives there. He mentions visiting a small cemetery to pay their respects to her grandparents.

Suddenly it's as if lightning strikes, his eyes widen in awe as all the pieces begin to snap into place, coalescing on the one word that flashes like a neon sign inside his mind. " _She should be laid to rest with our family in Tappahannock."_

"Tappahannock," he says softly to himself, his lips morph from the o shape of shock to a smile. He now knows what he has to do.

"Uncle Mike?" Damon asks when he hears the door creak.

The Mayor smiles as he steps inside. "You're here early? I just came by to see how everything is going and ask if you need anything?"

"It's fine, cool actually. I found a lot of stuff on Civil War recruits and volunteers from town, including Damon J. Salvatore. I.. I wanted to ask you.. Do you know anything about a small town named Tappahannock?"

"I've never been there but yes, I do know where it is. Why do you ask?"

"I read somewhere that there's a small cemetery in the town, one dating back from before the Civil War. Do you know if it's still there? I need to look for the grave of a young woman who died in 1863. Her name was Elena Wattles, wife of Henry. He died in the battle at Fort Sumter. All of her family came from there but I don't know her maiden name."

"Does it anything to do with your ancestor?" Mikael asks curiously.

"It might, I think she may be the Elena that Damon mentioned in his correspondence." Damon doesn't want to get into it any further right now. "I promise that if I find anything, I'll explain it all to you."

"Alright, I'll use my mayor's voice," he jokes, "and give theirs a call. I actually met him at last year's Virginia State Mayoral Conference, I'm sure he'll be happy to help out."

"Thanks!" Damon gushes, genuinely appreciative of his uncle's assistance.

* * *

Damon is standing at his brother's side in their parent's garden. Stefan's best friend, Matt Donovan, is officiating the ceremony. At Stefan's urging, he got himself a Justice of the Peace license. When he asks for the rings, Damon digs it out of his pocket and hands it to his brother. He can't resist smiling at him. Although their relationship can be strained at times, they're brothers and each would do anything for the other, he knows this.

While he listens to Stefan and Caroline recite their vows, he can't help but wonder if it was just like this when Damon's brother Zachary married before the war started a century and a half ago. Was it a warm sunshiny day just like this? Did he ever imagine if he would someday find his own soulmate? He did, Damon knows that but he never got to experience the ceremony or hold his child in his arms.

Damon drops his head and tries to discreetly wipe his eyes when he thinks about what was lost. He blows out a ragged breath to try to get his emotions under control and when he raises his eyes again, he's surprised to see Caroline's maid of honor, Bonnie Bennett staring at him. He gives her a terse but genuine smile then looks back at Matt just as he's pronouncing Stefan and Caroline man and wife.

Later in the afternoon after sharing a dance with his new sister, he gets himself a glass of punch and sits down. He reaches into his pocket and pulls out a flask of vodka. After pouring a little in, he starts to screw the lid back on when his dad pulls up a chair beside him. Damon rolls his eyes and hands him the flask, the older Salvatore chuckles and does the same thing. He takes a swallow and then hands it back to Damon.

"What's on your mind, Damon? I saw you struggling a little bit while they were reciting their vows."

"Uncle Mike found out where the little cemetery in Tappahannock is. I'm going to go there to see Elena's grave."

"Elena's grave? You mean, _Damon's_ Elena?"

"Yes, dad, Damon's Elena," Damon affirms, taking a straight shot of vodka directly from his flask.

"Why do you need to go to her grave?" he questions, raising an eyebrow before throwing back what's left in his Styrofoam cup. He wonders if maybe Stefan is right about his older brother for once.

"I can't explain it dad, it's something I need to do."

Just as he's about to say something, Damon's mom latches onto his arm to mingle with some of the other guests. While she's pulling him away, his eyes stay on Damon's till the crowd closes in and shrouds his form.

* * *

 _Damon is sitting in a rocking chair on the front porch of Elena's home. She, they, died early this morning and as much as he doesn't want to let her go, he knows that he has to lay her to rest soon. The stifling heat will make her body... he can't even think about it. He picks up his glass of water and takes a long pull. If only he had something stronger to drown his pain with even if it's only for a short respite._

 _The sun is starting to set when he hears the clip clop of horses hooves. When he looks up, he sees a cloud of dust being kicked up by a horse drawn wagon. In a few short minutes, it pulls to a halt in front of him. He's surprised when Katherine steps out._

 _"Katherine, you have to go. Your sons need you to stay alive."_

 _"I know she's gone, Damon. Mrs. Flowers sent a messenger to the house." She walks over to him and sits down on the chair beside him then takes his hand. "I know about the baby Damon. I'm so glad that you were here with her. I came here because I want to bring her home. She should be laid to rest with our family in Tappahannock."_

 _"But Katherine, she has, I mean she died of the fever. I don't know if they'll let us move her body away from here."_

 _"I don't care if it's forbidden. With or without your help, I am going to see to it that she's buried with our parents and our brother Amos who died in infancy."_

 _"We can't wait, this heat.."_

 _"Take my horse and go to speak to Dr. Meade. He's an old family friend."_

 _An hour later, he returns with the doctor, towing a pine box on the back of a wagon. The hardest thing he's ever done or will have to do is wrap her dead body in a quilt and lay it in that same pine box. He seals the lid closed, tears pouring from his eyes with each swing of the hammer. As soon as he finishes, he crawls down to say goodbye to Katherine._

 _"I told him that I would dig up every body in a twenty mile radius if he didn't let me bury her body with her family. I'm sure he thought I was going mad."_

 _"Thank you, Damon. She'll be laid to rest in the Tappahannock cemetery should you ever find yourself in these parts again."_

 _"I need to rejoin my regiment and face the consequences of my actions. Take care of her."_

 _"Goodbye, Damon." She gives him one last look before snapping the reins. Damon watches till she disappears. He goes inside her house and after tucking a picture of her in his pocket, he jumps onto his horse and rides off. His destination is a little town in Pennsylvania... where his destiny awaits._

Damon pulls his car to a stop in front of the wrought iron gate. Taking a deep breath, he reaches for the spray of flowers he bought before slowly getting out of his car. It feels surreal to be here. This wasn't his life, it was his ancestors and yet by some still unfathomable hocus pocus, he became his great-great-great-great uncle for that short moment in time.

The place looks antiquated as it should given the age of it. And yet the grounds are well manicured, the stones are clean and not covered with bird droppings, flowers are laying at the foot of every monument that he can see. He remembers being there at Elena's cabin, just himself and Katherine and staring at the pine box that was holding his beloved and their baby. He remembers watching Katherine's wagon slowly disappearing down that dirt road. He remembers the deep raw and unending pain that still keeps him awake at night.

It may have been 150 years ago in real time but for him, the wound is still fresh, it feels like he lost her, _them,_ only yesterday. Never in his life has he felt such deeply visceral, agonizing pain. He takes a deep breath to steel himself, opens the gate and walks inside. It's not a large cemetery so it doesn't take long to find the stone marked ' _Elena Wattles 1843-1863'_

Damon stoops down to lay the flowers on the ground. He lowers his head in silent prayer when a strangely familiar voice, _it's just his mind playing tricks on him again,_ interrupts the solemnity of the moment.

"Damon?"

* * *

 _Eva and I want to thank you all so very much. You're an incredible group of people, we're in awe every day of what you do for us. We don't even begin to know how to thank you all enough. We are truly grateful. You surprise us and inspire us to keep writing stories. We're arms deep in writing "Welcome to the Jungle". Casino owner Elena, cold case detective Damon. ;)_

 _Thank you Eva. You're the best._

 _Chapter title: 'The Infinity of Time and Space' by Satyricon._

 _Please have a look at 'November Rain'._

 _We do have an "I Can't Escape Myself" story verse Valentine coming..._

 _I hope you all have a fabulous day. Be safe and we'll see you soon._


	10. Forever Yours

_"Damon?"_

The voice doesn't speak again and Damon relaxes for a moment before he realizes the silence behind him is deafening. He slowly turns around and his legs start to wobble almost to the point of giving out from under him. _She's here…_ Big tearful eyes dominate her face, her lips are quivering and there she is, right in front of him. Damon is dumbfounded, his eyes as wide as saucers and unable to move or speak.

 _Elena is here._

 _She's here with him._

 _In his presence._

 _How?_

He's taking her in, the present day clothes and natural make up... she's even more stunning than he remembers. He starts to think his mind is once again playing tricks on him but when her face changes to one of heartbreak, Damon almost loses it.

 _Idiot! She probably thinks you doesn't recognize her._

The instinct to end her misery is overpowering and he moves so quickly, it's as if a magical force is propelling him forward. He catches her in his arms, immediately setting off a wildfire that burns through his veins with each pump of his thundering heart. He's aware he's holding her too tight but she quickly wraps her arms around him and embraces him with just as much strength. A sob escapes her and then she can't stop crying. While Damon's hands are soothing her, his mind is trying to come up with a plausible explanation. Did space and time converge somehow? How is this even possible?

Or has he finally gone mad? Is he even where he thinks he is or did they just travel in time to meet somewhere in between? He gingerly looks around, he's still at the cemetery, standing close to Elena's grave. The car parked near the gate is definitely modern. Even with the haze that's billowing inside his mind like a fog bank, he recognizes his personalized license plate, _'CVLWAR1"_

When he feels her shift slightly, he focuses back on the girl in his arms. Her face is still buried in his chest. Clearly she believes they're real. For Damon, it's the most amazing thing ever to be able to hold her. Feeling a need like no other, he brushes his lips along the crown of her head while breathing in her jasmine scent.

"How come, you're not freaking out or…?"

"Why aren't you?" Elena points out. She raises her head to look at him. "I was so scared you wouldn't… .. recognize me... that you'd think I was nuts."

Damon chuckles. "Truth be told, Elena," I thought I was nuts and that I'd lost it completely. My brother has thought me to be certifiable for years now." He chuckles a little at the thought.

They both look at the grave for awhile before Elena has to ask. "Are you… leaving now?"

Damon slightly moves his head no. "I can't now. I don't know how any of this is possible.. Somehow, by some miracle I have found you. I won't, I can't leave until we figure it out... until we figure _us_ out."

He can see the relief in her expression. "I just have to let my parents know I won't be back tomorrow and then I need to book a hotel room for a few more nights."

He's looking at her in awe, shaking his head incredulously. "I'm just... do you know what happened to us? Did you live in the dream of 1863 too? It sounds so... insane. Was... the other Elena your ancestor?"

Damon feels absolutely crazy asking these questions but Elena nods vigorously to each one. "I think my story won't be that much different from yours but it's still a long one. Plus there's only one hotel in town and I can guarantee that you will not want to stay there for one night, let alone several. Um.. I you'd like...," Damon can detect a bit of uncertainty in her eyes, "you're welcome to stay at my house...if you want to that is?"

Damon's tempted to tease her a little but then just bobs his head, reflecting the pure unadulterated happiness that is bursting inside of him. He actually feels like he could climb Everest. He wants to lay the world at her feet. He keeps one arm wrapped around her middle while pulling his cellphone out with the other. After dropping another quick kiss to her forehead, he pushes his dad's icon. While he's waiting for him to answer, he can't take his eyes off of her, neither can stop smiling.

"Hi Dad? I'm going to be staying in Tappahannock for a couple of days. I just found the girl I've been looking for, the one who stars in all of my dreams.

* * *

Elena's house isn't the one he remembers, it couldn't be, they're not in the same place, it's a different town and yet it's so familiar looking.

"Is her house, the one near Fredericksburg.. um is it still standing?"

"No, sadly it isn't. Her house.. it was struck by lightning. It burned down in minutes.

He notices a big old Oak tree. Although logically he knows it's not the same one, he can't help himself and walks over to it. Stooping down, he finds himself looking anyway to see if they're miraculously there, the initials he carved. He knew he wouldn't find them and yet he can't help but feel a bit of melancholy that they're not. There was no way she could transplant a great big Oak tree from _her_ place to here, still he had to look for himself.

He smiles when she walks over to join him. She stoops down, her own fingers running along the wood.

"I remember that day..., we went for a walk. Even with your shoulder, you insisted on carving our initials. That tree is still standing, the property belongs to my grandfather now. It's remarkable how much this one resembles it."

"Yeah?" he asks, unconsciously running his palm over the inexplicable scar. Damon stands up and follows her to the steps of the Victorian era home. He stands back and looks up, eyeing the two story structure. It has a first floor porch that wraps around the house from what he can tell.

"This house could be a museum."

"It could. One of my however many great grandfathers ago built this one in 1903." She smiles and motions for him to follow her into the house. Damon follows pausing to take in her amazing home. It's filled with antiques, Civil War era furniture, hurricane lamps, old photos but when he sees a familiar chair, he walks over to it.

"I remember this, it was on the front porch."

"It was. Although nearly all of her and some of my families possession burned in the fire, they were able to save a few relics. I love going to auctions and antique stores, it's a hobby of mine. That's where I've collected most of these pieces."

"It's just that the house, it's looks so familiar and yet it's impossible that it does."

"Actually Damon, my grandfather, the one that built this house, he had pictures of the original so some of the floor plan including the porch were taken from her home."

"That's incredible." Damon voice trails when he suddenly notices the flowers on the table. "Virginia Bluebells. You still love them?"

"I do, they grow wild. My whole backyard is dotted with them. Have a seat, I'm going to get us each a nice cold glass of lemonade."

"That sounds fabulous." He watches her walk off then steps into the parlor. He looks at the china cabinet full of antique glassware and old photographs. Her bookshelf is full of Civil War era books along with some medical books and journals. When he hears footsteps, he turns around just as she steps into the room. He sits down on the couch while she sets the platter on the end table then joins him on the sofa.

"What do you do, Elena and what is your last name?"

"My last name is Gilbert. You may remember meeting Katherine. She was married to Jonathan Gilbert. I descended from one of her twin sons, Grayson. And as far as a career, "I'm a nurse…," she tells him with a twinkle in her eye. "And you?"

Damon laughs shortly, "I'm a historian. I write a monthly article for 'Civil War Times'.

 _There it is, her sweet giggle again._ Damon has an ear to ear smile plastered on his face.

"Let's take our lemonade outside, you can have a look at my garden."

"I'd love that."

They go into the kitchen together. Damon looks around at the blend of past and present that is the kitchen. She has modern appliances but her stove looks like replica of one from times gone by. Elena watches him for a moment before pulling a canister of cookies out of the cupboard.

Once she pours their lemonade, they go outside. The fresh scent of flowers and moss fill the air. Her backyard is indeed dotted with Virginia bluebells. She shows him her vegetable garden. He picks a few grape tomatoes and pops them in his mouth. Elena laughs before doing the same. They retreat to the gazebo and then continue their conversation.

"I'm actually a little worried about what you are thinking," she starts. "I have always been interested in the family heritage, my brother and parents just made fun of me. I collected pictures and period newspapers, letters, all the Civil War stuff. I can't believe I've never come across any of your work. My dad has a subscription to your magazine but I don't remember reading any of your articles."

"Do you… do you have any pictures? I'd like to see your collection." The prospect of seeing something new is exhilarating.

Elena gives him a beaming smile. "Just wait, you will love what I found!" She gets up and disappears inside. Damon experiences an odd feeling of nostalgia and loss the moment she steps out of sight. She's back soon though and contrary to expectations she doesn't have a big box of treasures to reveal, just a…

"I found this photograph in one of my great aunt's collection when she died. She probably didn't even know it was there." She smiles shyly and then hands it to him.

Damon takes the photograph from her gingerly and what he looks at almost brings him to his knees. It's old and creased but clear nonetheless. It's a hospital picture. He immediately recognizes the doctor and there's Elena holding _his_ arm, helping the older man to bandage it. He tries to swallow past the lump in his throat when his eyes drop to _Damon_ himself. The man looks beaten and in pain but yet his eyes are happy as he leans into her touch. It's so obvious. He smooths the photograph and raises his eyes to meet hers, he feels them beginning to moisten from the emotion of it all.

"Thank you… You have no idea how happy I am that you actually exist in my time."

Elena reaches out and squeezes his hand. "I think I do have an idea."

* * *

They spend most of the morning walking around Elena's neighborhood. They walk to a park, taking a seat on one of the benches to watch some of the local children play on the swings and teeter totters and the slides. Their delightful squeals and excited screams fill the air. Damon almost wishes that he had a Frisbee and his dog along with. Coop loves to run after the disc when he tosses into the lake that's behind his house. From the park, they stop in a coffee shop. He buys them each an iced coffee and then they start to walk back to Elena's home.

When they get back to her house, Elena tells him to make himself comfortable while she makes them a light lunch. She throws together a chicken and avocado salad and after plating it up, she calls Damon to join her. They sit down and continue their conversation. After putting her water glass down, Elena taps the rim with her index finger.

"What's on your mind?"

"I was just thinking Damon. It's been said about our family that love is both a curse and a blessing. When I started to research the origins of this curse, I found out that it dates back to the Civil War. Katherine's husband died later in the war. Only one of her twins grew to adulthood and married. I can still see it even now, in the present time I mean. My great aunt never married because her heart was broken when she was a young girl. Whereas my parents loved each other very much but my mom died shortly before my eighteenth birthday," she pauses for a moment before the spark returns to her eyes. "Dad has gone out on a few dates but he says mom was the love of his life and he cannot and will not replace her by marrying again."

"I would like to meet him."

"You will..." She stops for a moment to reflect and then her smile returns. "Don't laugh at me, but my best friend comes from a family of witches or that's what they claim anyway."

After an adventure where he literally traveled through time and space, Damon cannot laugh at anything no matter how far out there it may seem. Still the corner of his mouth lifts into a teasing smile. Elena's in return is beaming and Damon squeezes the arm of the chair to stop himself from taking her in his arms and kissing her senseless.

"You don't believe me," Elena accuses, "I'm not saying it's true but there's something different about her, _them_. Once, I asked her about the curse, it was just us having fun when we were teenagers and she looked at me strangely and said - 'There are promises to be kept before it may be lifted, but you should know that...' - I swear it gave me chills.

Later she wasn't even sure why she said it. Since then I took it all a bit more seriously and became the family weirdo," she shrugs as if it doesn't matter, but Damon can see she's watching him for a reaction. He leans forward and takes her hands in his.

"Elena, I think I'm past doubting anything you say. This, what happened to us, is beyond any rational explanation but I'm not going to question it because it led me to you and I _feel_ it's absolutely right, I couldn't be more grateful."

Elena squeezes his hands in return and her breath hitches.

"Damon...," she whispers her eyes filling with tears. "I need you..." She shifts closer, kneeling between his legs.

How the hell is he supposed to resist her like this? And then the answer presents itself. He shouldn't. He can't. They've been waiting for each other forever and now they are finally together. He doesn't want to hold back and he's sure she doesn't either. He smiles at the thought, that she was the driving force in their 1863 first time as well. He won't hesitate for sure. With a deep contented sigh he tightens his hold on her, burying his face between her neck and shoulder, breathing her in.

"Aren't you going ask if I'm sure and remind me that you will wait for me as long as it takes?" she asks curiously, her eyes twinkling.

"I would," Damon murmurs, "but I don't want to. Besides, I remember you were, are quite determined when you set your mind to something."

Elena giggles and Damon's sure he's never been happier in his entire life.

"I love you so much," he whispers. "I know it may seem… too soon to say such…"

She stops him, pressing her soft fingertips against his lips. "It's not, I feel the same."

Damon can't wait anymore and starts kissing her like there's only today, no tomorrow. Elena launches into the kiss vehemently, her hands rolling up his shirt. Damon doesn't even think of how he got out of his clothes and she of hers but then he's carrying her back into her bedroom. He experiences a welcome sense of deja-vu when she's lying on the bed, gloriously naked, her hands and eyes inviting him to join her.

 _Is this their first time or just a reunion? It doesn't matter because it feels equally as strong and perfect,_ Elena moving under him, her fingertips clenching on his back, her sweet and intense sighs right into his ear cause goose bumps to erupt on his skin. Lips and teeth mark each others skin. Occasional moans of each others names urge them to increase the movements.

He would stop when her moans and sighs become cries but somehow he knows she needs this just as desperately as he does. So he keeps thrusting, giving her everything he has and she's returning it with the same fervor. And then in one electric moment, all the flashes of their past and their present intercourse clash together in one blinding surge of emotions so deeply visceral and powerful that it leaves them both struggling for air.

When their breathing slows to normal, they lay quietly in a tight embrace, Damon can't make himself to let go of her even for a second. He's overwhelmed by a sense of familiarity, it feels like coming home. His hand strokes her smooth and damp skin until it accidentally ends up on her flat belly. His heart almost stops in awaiting of her reaction but she just calmly lays her hand on top of his and for a moment they both mourn the life that never got to live.

"How did you... keep going, searching for something you wasn't sure existed?" Damon asks after a while.

She smiles and brushes another kiss to his chest. "I was holding onto your promise," she says simply, trustingly. "I don't know why but I believed with all my heart that somehow, someway, you would find a way for us to be together, whether it's in the past or in the future or even in another world."

He will never know if he's somehow the other Damon who jumped through centuries to keep his promise to Elena or if he just gets to live the life his ancestor didn't. But he will always be grateful and never question how the fate brought them together. So he presses his mouth against her hair and whispers promises, ones that he now knows he'll be able to keep.

* * *

Damon opens the car door for Elena and helps her out. She's taking in the surroundings before she looks at the house, Damon smiles at her encouragingly. The door opens before they knock, Zach is hurrying down the stairs to greet his son and the mysterious girl he's bringing home, his mom not far behind. Damon has to grin mentally at their confusion and also excitement. He can't blame them, he hasn't brought a girl since he was in high school. They hug him, Elena awkwardly standing a few steps back so he quickly interrupts the family reunion.

"Mom, dad, this is Elena. Elena Gilbert. Elena, my mom and dad.

Elena smiles, "Nice to meet you," and Damon knows they won't be able to resist her just like he couldn't either.

They spent several days at Elena's birth town going over the stuff she's collected through the years. Although they did a lot of talking, they were equally happy with only silence between them. It was enough to just be together, enjoying each other's presence.

 _They made love..._ So many times he can't even count and just thinking about it makes him so hard that he has to check if he's not being obvious. He met some members of Elena's family who were looking at him the same way his parents are eyeing Elena right now.

Miraculously, Elena and his mom become fast friends and the two of them are sharing tips in the kitchen in no time at all. Damon chuckles at his father's disbelief as they listen to the two women, chatting as if they'd known each other for years.

"What wrong dad? I thought you'd be happy that I'm not alone anymore?"

Zach looks at him troubled. "Can you be serious for a few minutes here, Damon? Last week you told me you have time and now you're bringing us a girl you just met. You're already talking about marriage when you've known her for five minutes? And did you say her name is Elena? _Elena?_ A girl with the same name of the woman whose grave you went to see?"

Damon feels a little sorry for his dad's confusion but he's so incredibly happy he can't stop smiling. "Dad, I promise I'm not crazy and I know what I'm doing. When you get to know her, you will fall in love with her just like I did. And yes, the wedding is definitely in plans," he adds just to tease his father.

Zach has no idea how to deal with the situation but when they sit in the garden, enjoying lunch and visiting, he relaxes a little. Elena's her most adorable self, not at all shy talking to his parents, sharing warm looks and small touches under the table and he'd like nothing more than to have her just for himself like right now.

"I understand you met my son only when he came to Tappahannock, Elena?"

She looks him in the eyes and nods to Zachary. "I did Mr. Salvatore, but I've been waiting for him my whole life."

* * *

"You're enjoying this!" Elena laughs. "Freaking out your parents, I mean."

"Yeah, I am," he laughs, "I'm so happy, it feels so good to be able to introduce you to my family." Luckily, Damon knows this way by heart otherwise he could cause an accident because he can't stop looking at her instead of on the road before him. "Wait till you meet Stefan!" When she looks over at him, he quirks a brow and starts to chuckle.

"Right, your younger brother?"

"Yes, Stef was supposed to keep an eye on Cooper, my dog. If his new wife is with him, I don't want to know what was happening there."

Elena rolls her eyes but soon she can't stop staring at the beautiful picture that opens up to them when the lake comes into the view. "It's incredible, Damon! You live here?

Damon just smiles when he parks the car in front of his house. They stretch when they get out of the car. Suddenly a big furry dog darts out of nowhere, Damon quickly moving in front of Elena to defend her.

"Don't worry, he's a good boy he just needs to meet you...," Damon trails off as Cooper pulls up short, watching Elena for a moment before greeting her with a short yelp and attacks her with his wet muzzle and tongue. Damon's taken aback, so is Stefan, who hurries out of the door.

Elena laughs at Cooper's antics but quickly gets up when she notices Stefan's presence. "Sorry, he's just so cute..."

"Cute? Stefan snorts, he's also handful," he looks at Damon strangely and Damon quickly introduces them.

"Stefan, my brother, Elena... my girl." He's not sure if "girl" is appropriate but it will have to do.

"How long have you known him?," Stefan nods to the dog, who's bumping into Elena to get some attention.

"Today was the first time."

Stefan gives Cooper another disbelieving look. "Whatever. I have to go, glad you're home Damon, this 'hurricane' took a lot of my time. Time that I was supposed to be spending with Caroline." He shakes them off and jumps into his car. Looking up, he waves at them while backing out of the drive way.

"That was weird," Elena looks at Damon questioningly.

"It's Stefan," Damon reacts, as if it's all the explanation she needs. "But look at it this way," he pulls her closer which causes Cooper to keep jumping at them. "Now we're finally alone again. Would you like me to give you a tour?"

* * *

The morning is beautiful, Elena is sitting on the front stairs, breathing in the fresh air, looking at the lake. It's always changing colors. She grabbed one Damon's shirts when she left the bedroom to get something to drink. After she poured herself a glass of sweet tea, she looks out of the window. Unable to resist the view, she goes outside and plops herself down on one of the steps. Damon finds her several minutes later, his hair a mess, stubble on his face, his chest bare and Elena's heart skips a beat at the sight.

"This shouldn't be legal, you know...," he greets her. "Looking this sexy in the morning I mean. Especially when I know you have nothing on except my shirt."

Elena blushes. "Says someone wandering around in just his boxers."

"Well, since _someone_ took my shirt...," Damon smirks, drops down onto the step above hers and spreads his limbs. Elena leans back against his frame sitting between his legs. "Aren't you hungry?"

"Food, who needs food? I'm utterly and completely happy right now."

Damon plants a kiss on the crown of her head. "We can go for a walk later. We can do anything you want."

Elena tilts her head back to collect a kiss on the lips, which Damon happily delivers. "I'd love to."

Cooper runs to them trying to squeeze his head between them. Damon ruffles his fur and winks at Elena. "You know, Coop is a friendly dog but I never saw him make friends with someone so quickly."

"Ah, that's why you two looked at me so weirdly yesterday."

"Yes, I don't think Stefan believed you that you never saw him before."

"It's a skill," Elena winks at him, not feeling the need to try to come up with a reason.

"Alright," Damon pulls her onto his lap. "Wanna see some of mine?"

He lifts her laughing carrying her back into the house, slamming the door shut before Cooper can follow them inside.

* * *

An individual life owes its existence on a series of accidents, strokes of luck, tragedies, decisions, the explained, the unexplainable, near-misses any number of things that became the lives of the people who came before them. Coincidence, chance and happenstance may stretch behind them for generations. Even if one of the innumerable events that encompass a life had not occurred, things can still happen, bit by little bit, eventually leading to the here and now.

With these thoughts in mind Damon finds himself overlooking a Pennsylvania field on a bright and windy day, squinting at a ridge. He remembers July 3, 1863 as if it was only yesterday. He remembers the sweltering heat and waiting for the command to start the assault that history would come to know as Pickett's Charge.

He shields his eyes with his hand as he scans the now barren field. It's no longer drenched in blood and littered with bodies the way it was when he _died_ on it. He turns a little more, his eyes falling on the Spangler farm. It's now part of Gettysburg National Military Park. It's one of the spots from which his fellow Confederate brethren launched their assault on the third and final day of the battle, one that marked a turning point in the war. He feels Elena squeeze his hand. He faces her for a moment and then turns his attention back to the field.

Standing here, in a small depression in the countryside, it's easy to remember that the soldiers, himself included, had little idea that near certain death was waiting for them. Ripples and folds, the natural landscape obscured their objective, the ridge. His heart is nearly beating out of his chest, a gasp escapes when he finds the area that somehow looks familiar even after all these years. He remembers clutching his abdomen, his blood staining his hands and gushing from his mouth just before death claimed him.

He takes a breath and then tells Elena exactly what happened. The memory is still so fresh in his head. How many people can bear witness to their own deaths? He still doesn't know how any of this is possible. When he starts to choke up, his eyes beginning to glisten, Elena wraps her arms around his neck and hugs him close, comforting him, reassuring him and loving him.

As soon as he regains his composure, she takes his hand again and when their eyes meet, she drops a kiss to his lips. "Let's go home."

He sucks in a deep breath, nods his head and follows her back to the car. Before getting in, he looks at the empty field once more, stands at attention and salutes his fellow soldiers.

* * *

 _6 months later_

"Can I come in?" Elena's father peeks through the door, hoping to have a few words with his daughter.

"Yes, daddy, come in."

"We'll just go downstairs and give you two a few minutes." Elena smiles thankfully watching while Bonnie and Caroline leave the room.

Grayson carefully embraces his daughter and then gives her a kiss on the forehead. "I'm very proud of you Elena. Damon adores you. You chose good."

"Thank you daddy. I just wish she could be here too."

"She is sweetheart. As a matter of fact, I got something for you." he reaches into his suit jacket, pulls out a small velvet box and opens the lid. Inside is an antique looking yellow diamond pendant on a chain.

"This was mom's. I remember her wearing it on special occasions."

"Yes and now it's yours. I can't think of a more special occasion."

Elena doesn't want to cry but her emotions overwhelm her. She hugs her dad tight and quickly dabs her eyes before her mascara runs. "Put it on me?" She turns her back to him, raises her hair and then he drapes it around her neck. Just as he snaps the clasp the music starts to play.

"Showtime," he laughs and sticks out his elbow. Elena latches on and then the two of them leave the room to fulfill her destiny.

* * *

"Why are you rushing into this again? You and Elena hardly know each other..."

"Stefan's just jealous because he waited for years with Caroline and now you beat him at parenthood..." Nik teases.

"For a million time, Stefan, besides the fact we both want to start our life together as soon as possible, we also sort of _are_ in a rush, if we wait another month, she won't fit into the dress..."

There it is, the real reason Stefan's mad at him. They get to have a family earlier than Stefan. He just thinks his own concept must be the right one.

"Boys," Zach enters the room, "Can you please skip the grumbling it on his wedding day? I saw the bride, she's too cute to be exposed to your bickering."

"Yes, Stefan, you had your big day now it's my turn. And besides, I didn't grumble at yours." Damon mocks him.

Zachary and Nik share a look, Zach rolling his eyes. They all look at the door when they hear a creek. Damon's mom steps inside.

"I just wanted to tell you how proud I am of you Damon and how much we love Elena. You chose good."

Overcome with emotion, his voice cracks a little bit. "Thanks mom." Damon embraces her and kisses her cheek. "I love you," he whispers next to her ear. They part when his father interrupts.

"It's time, come on boys, Stefan, go first." The two brothers take their places while Zachary and Jenna take their seats next to Mikael and Esther. They're family too. Elena's best friend Bonnie is officiating the ceremony. When the chords of Pachelbel's canon start to play, Damon raises his head, his eyes meeting hers. His heart melts at how beautiful she is, both inside and out.

Later, no one has a chance to take turns with the gorgeous bride, Damon doesn't want to share, even for a dance. They dance slowly over the room, he can't resist, his hand occassionally slips to her baby bump shaping up under her wedding dress.

"How is he?" Damon whispers into her ears, teasing her by starting their favorite game.

" _She_ is doing fine, not buying your act that you're expecting a boy at all... Feel for yourself," Elena holds his palm on her belly. He beams when he feels the fluttering. He'll never get over how magical that feels. Damon's silent for a long moment, then hides his wife in his embrace completely. "You know," he whispers, "sometimes I feel I should be more protective, afraid maybe that the other shoe may drop. That one day I'll wake up and you won't be here or that someone comes and hurts you, taking you away from me... But then, when I have you in my arms I just _know_ deep inside that nothing can tear us apart. I'll always be at your side and I know that you'll never leave mine.

Elena is swinging to the rhythm of music, her head lying on Damon's chest. "And that's the way it's supposed to be. From now till forever."

 _Truer words have never been spoken._

* * *

 _Fourscore and seven years ago our fathers brought forth on this continent, a new nation, conceived in Liberty, and dedicated to the proposition that all men are created equal._

 _Now we are engaged in a great civil war, testing whether that nation, or any nation so conceived and so dedicated, can long endure. We are met on a great battle-field of that war. We have come to dedicate a portion of that field, as a final resting place for those who here gave their lives that that nation might live. It is altogether fitting and proper that we should do this._

 _But, in a larger sense, we can not dedicate - we can not consecrate - we can not hallow - this ground. The brave men, living and dead, who struggled here, have consecrated it, far above our poor power to add or detract. The world will little note, nor long remember what we say here, but it can never forget what they did here. It is for us the living, rather, to be dedicated here to the unfinished work which they who fought here have thus far so nobly advanced._

 _It is rather for us to be here dedicated to the great task remaining before us - that from these honored dead we take increased devotion to that cause for which they gave the last full measure of devotion - that we here highly resolve that these dead shall not have died in vain - that this nation, under God, shall have a new birth of freedom - and that government of the people, by the people, for the people shall not perish from the earth._

 _President Abraham Lincoln. November 19, 1863._

* * *

 _"For those who believe, no explanation is necessary; for those who do not believe, no explanation is possible." Franz Werfel from 'The Song of Bernadette'._

 _Damon had to go back in time, via his dream, to relive that period in old Damon's life to be able to find his own Elena. Without that, none of this chapter would have been possible._

 _Thank you all so much, Eva and I are incredibly grateful for your support, reviews, follows, favorites. Your wonderful words and stellar support are the we continue to strive to give you new and fresh DE stories._ _Out of the blue the other day, Eva mentioned to me that she misses them as do I. The 'I Can't Escape Myself' Valentine will post on that day barring anything unforeseen._

 _The 1993 movie 'Gettysburg' directed by Ronald Maxwell starring Jeff Daniels, Martin Sheen, Tom Berenger and Stephen Lang as General Pickett is excellent. It's based on the book "Killer Angels" by Michael Shaara which is an excellent read too if that type of story piques your interest._

 _I love you dearly Eva. Thank you._

 _Chapter title: 'Forever Yours' by Nightwish._

 _'November Rain' continues. Watch for my short story period piece to be posting any day now._

 _Be safe, have a fabulous day and thank you._


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